by Zoey Ellis
She looked up and saw the painting that Nyro had made her paint had been placed on the wall right by the bed. When did he move that there? She made a face and considered ripping it off the wall again, just out of principle. She never quite got him back for that painting.
“gi tmo abnug bnum gi bnah,” Nyro growled from underneath her. She sat straddling him on his knot as he lay on the bed watching her, still panting and gripping her hips. The echo arrived shortly afterward. “You will not touch that painting.”
“There are plenty of better painters in the lair,” I’mya snapped, her anger flaring. “Why don’t you display one of theirs?”
“I like this one,” he said, somewhat smugly.
“You just like torturing me,” I’mya remarked darkly.
“And you me, fireball,” he said, propping his head to one side.
“How?” I’mya demanded. “How in all seven hells do I torture you?”
“Your kon is torturing me right now,” he said, flexing his cock to prove just how tightly her channel strangled it. “Your scent has been torturing me since the moment I met you, and your beauty is uniquely agonizing.”
I’mya swallowed as her irritation fled. She’d been unprepared for that. “I don’t do any of that on purpose,” she murmured.
“Maybe not, but don’t deny that you very much enjoy teasing and disobeying me at every opportun—” Nyro froze midsentence. He shot up, grabbing her neck and leaning her backward, jostling her roughly on his knot.
I’mya gasped, wincing at the roughness of his movement.
“’et kme ‘i’ir kve.” He spoke with both amazement and suspicion. “You can understand me,”
I’mya had no words, but even if she had, his hand pressing on her neck prevented her from saying anything.
“How do you suddenly understand Thrakondarian?” he demanded.
Eyes wide, I’mya tapped his hand, and he seemed to realize he held her too tightly. She swallowed as he relaxed his grip. “I don’t understand your language,” she breathed, “but the words… change.”
“Change how?”
“I don’t know how,” I’mya admitted. “It seems whenever you use magic there is an echo that I can hear; it changes into a language I understand. I don’t know how it works because I don’t understand magic.”
Nyro’s eyes flicked to the bookshelf. “Is that why you have been looking at books about magic?”
“Yes, that is the main reason.”
“Can you cast?”
I’mya was unsure how to answer. She had created a shield but she didn’t remember how she did it, so she said, “No.”
His hand slowly relaxed on her throat and then he removed it completely, peering at her as though he had never seen her before. “How long have you been able to understand me?”
“From the beginning,” she said with a slight wince. “But not every single word, and when you don’t use magic I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Nyro made a sound in the back of his throat and he looked over the room for a long moment as he thought.
“I do like it when you speak my language, though,” I’mya added.
Nyro’s eyes snapped back to her. “And I will like it when you speak mine.”
“Why do you refuse to speak mine?”
“My language is superior,” he said simply.
I’mya pursed her lips. Why she was expecting him to be any less arrogant just because they were finally communicating, she didn’t know. She took a breath. “I need to talk to you about my heat.”
Nyro’s eyes return to hers, but he said nothing.
“It’s coming soon. I decided not to suppress it, but that means I will need an alpha to tend to me. I haven’t had time to select someone—”
“Why would you need to select someone?” Agitation darkened Nyro’s face. “We just discussed this. No one is to touch you.”
“I know you said that, but Dayatha said you don’t like having omegas in their heat. I can understand that. So I can let you know whom I choose—”
“You will not be choosing anyone.”
I’mya paused. “So you want to choose?”
Nyro flipped her around on the bed, snarling as he pressed down onto her, applying pressure to his knot. “No other man will be tending to you.”
I’mya immediately snarled back at him. “It is cruel to leave an omega in heat without any care! If you cannot tend to me, then I will need someone, or I have to take suppressants.”
“No,” Nyro said firmly. “I will tend to you.”
“You will?” I’mya was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”
A smirk graced his face. “You think I will squander an opportunity to have you crawling on your hands and knees, begging for a sniff of my cock?”
I’mya grit her teeth as her eyes flashed. “That will never happen!”
Nyro chuckled. “You have no control over it, fireball.”
The next day, after their morning meal, instead of returning to bed, Nyro handed I’mya a midnight blue tunic. “Put this on.”
I’mya stared at it, then looked back up at him. He was getting dressed too. She held up the tunic and looked at it carefully. It wasn’t one of his; it was a fitted tunic for a female. “Why?”
Nyro shot her a look that suggested he wasn’t going to explain, so she pulled the tunic over her head. Surprisingly, it fit her perfectly. She hugged her arms around her body, savoring the feeling of being dressed—it felt good to wear clothes again after so long. “Where did you get this?” she asked, smoothing her hands over it. The material was too thick for the lair and she would get too warm in it, but it was quality material.
“I had it made,” Nyro said as he lifted her into his arms.
I’mya gripped onto him, wondering what he was planning. This was unusual.
Nyro walked to the large window aperture and bellowed out. She couldn’t understand what he said, but within moments the rhythmic beating of wings approached from above.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, struggling to get out of his hold. But the dragon was already at the window. I’mya stopped breathing as the creature loomed in the sky. He looked just as frightful as he had before—his black scales sleek and glimmering, his jagged mouth wide, and his enormous feet clawing the air.
A pulse of fear shot into I’mya, along with the returning certainty that she shouldn’t be anywhere near this creature. “Nyro—”
Before she could get her words out, Nyro ran a few steps to the edge of the aperture and launched himself into the air.
I’mya screamed and grabbed onto him, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her face into his shoulder. She had never seen him lose control of magic or even miss landing on his dragon, and yet she couldn’t control the fear that they were in danger. Her heart pounded as she prayed to the Seven that they would not fall, then found herself gliding through the air with him as he chanted under his breath.
He landed with a soft thump and then everything was still except for the breeze that ruffled their clothes.
I’mya lifted her head and saw a massive mountain drifting away behind Nyro’s shoulder. She glanced up at him and he was looking down at her, a grin on his face. “You, who is not afraid of a dragorai-alpha, is afraid of… air?”
I’mya would have scowled at him if she wasn’t so anxious. “I’m afraid of a lot of things in this situation,” she breathed. “Falling being the biggest one.”
Nyro made a noise in the back of his throat. He lifted and turned her so her back was against his chest, and then he lowered her to sit down, fixing her on his lap.
I’mya remained frozen for a long moment, but the cocoon he provided for her, the warmth of his chest on her back, his arms around her, and the security of his thick legs underneath her helped her to relax. It wasn’t as though she could easily fall off him.
Exhaling heavily, she lifted her head and took in her surroundings. They sat between the shoulders of the dragon, at the base of his massive
neck as he soared high in the sky. His head lowered now and then when he changed direction. The mountain range spread out before them, vast and endless, made up of elegant shades of grey, blue, and white. The cold, pure air sailed into her lungs and relaxed her as she savored the freshness of it. There was a peace about the range that seeped into her, an awe embracing her that could only come from experiencing profoundly natural and untouched surroundings.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured to Nyro, whose chin rested against her temple. “Is this all yours?”
“Most of it, yes,” Nyro said. “What you see in the far distance are my brothers’ ranges.”
She had forgotten he was part of a clan of brothers. I’mya couldn’t remember how many there were, but if they all owned ranges like this, then surely they dominated a significant part of the Twin Realms? It was difficult to know just how much without seeing a map, and maps hadn’t existed for years as far as she could remember.
I’mya slowly began to relax, leaning back into Nyro. “Where are we going?”
“We are just flying,” Nyro said.
The dragon glided across the range at a gentle speed, tilting slightly each time it changed direction. I’mya could hardly believe that she was on its back, a creature so frightening and dangerous.
“Is this what you do when you leave the lair?” she asked him.
“Sometimes,” Nyro said. “Flying helps me think, and we frequently have to check our territory anyway. But usually we hunt.”
“What do you hunt?”
“Anything he is interested in,” Nyro said, gesturing to the dragon. “For a dragon, hunting is about sharpening his predatory instincts, but for a dragorai-alpha it is about strengthening the connection between them.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
The rumors about the destruction of civilizations at the hands of the dragorai jumped into I’mya’s mind, but she wasn’t going to bring that up. Dayatha had a good point about being knowledgeable about the history of the dragorai. I’mya needed to do more research before she broached that topic. “What do you think about?” she asked.
Nyro’s arms tightened around her. “Lately, you.”
A thrill prickled up I’mya’s arms. “Me?”
Nyro’s chin brushed against her forehead as he nodded. “You.”
When he offered nothing further, she twisted to look up at him. “What about me?”
He remained silent for a long moment as the dragon angled on a tilt. “You are a very intriguing female.”
I’mya made a face. “I’m not that much of a mystery.”
“You certainly are. Your relationship with magic is highly unusual for a lesser-mortal.”
I’mya hesitated. “I… I don’t have a relationship with magic.”
“You are not intentionally doing it, which is even more unusual. I am glad you belong to me.”
I’mya glared at him. “Is that how you think of me? As your property.”
Nyro glanced at her, slight confusion on his face. “Yes.”
When I’mya’s glare deepened, so did his bewilderment. “You are offended by this definition?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You live in service to my lair and to me.”
“It reminds me of the history before the war… alpha and omega slavery.”
“No one is in my lair against their will,” he growled. “Many females would be pleased to be called mine.”
“You do have many females who are called yours,” I’mya pointed out.
The dragorai snorted. “So this is about jealousy.”
“It isn’t! It is about referring to me like I am a… a Dao board or a painting or a piece of jewelry.”
Nyro thought for a moment. “This dragon is mine. He belongs to me. I take care of his needs and make sure he thrives. There is no other he belongs to. It is not offensive to call him that.”
“But he is a creature,” I’mya explained. “And you belong to him too, right? He is bonded to no one else.”
“Then it is the same,” Nyro decided. “You are mine. I take care of your needs and you belong to no other.”
I’mya let out a breath, shaking her head. He just didn’t get it.
“That is not true for the other kon’ayas,” he continued. “They belong to many. You do not.”
“How do you know?” I’mya asked.
Nyro made a gruff sound at the back of his throat. “Every person in the lair has been questioned. You haven’t fucked any of them.”
I’mya turned to look at him in disbelief. “And if I had?”
At that, he growled and shot her a dangerous look.
She turned back to the front, shaking her head. “And you?” I’mya shot at him. “Who do you belong to?”
“Me.”
I’mya rolled her eyes.
The dragon dipped slightly, lowering toward the mountains before sweeping back up to continue his glide. I’mya sucked in a breath at the swoop in her stomach.
Nyro chuckled. “He is in a good mood today.”
I’mya was surprised at the suggestion that dragons could have complex moods. She thought they were ruled solely by instinct and basic emotions. Regardless, she’d prefer he be in a good mood while she was on his back. “What is a lesser-mortal?” she asked after a moment, thinking back to something he said.
“A mortal who is more fragile and less capable than a higher-mortal.”
I’mya didn’t bother to ask what a higher-mortal was—the assuredness in his tone made it clear that he was one.
“Do you know if any in your family had higher-mortal blood?” he asked.
At unexpected the mention of her family, I’mya’s face dropped. The grief that had been lingering underneath the surface surged up and stung her eyes. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, unable to find the words to talk about them.
Nyro’s hand closed over her jaw and he leaned over to examine her as he tilted her face up to his. His eyes darkened at the sight of her tear-filled eyes, but he didn’t say anything for a long moment.
“A few days ago when I punished the servant,” Nyro began, “you went into a kind of trance afterward. Why is that?”
I’mya swallowed. “I thought you didn’t want to be lectured about the war,” she said tentatively.
“It the war the reason for this reaction?”
“Yes,” she said. “If I am unprepared for violence, then it can be a shock.”
Nyro’s eyes searched her face. “And just now?”
I’mya’s voice was hoarse as she spoke, on the edge of breaking. “My family died as a result of the war.”
“North or South?”
“North,” she said. “Have you been there?”
He nodded slowly. “I’ve been all over the Twin Realms.”
“Oh. You’re not affected by the war?”
“I do not involve myself in the matters of lesser-mortals.”
I’mya frowned at him. “So you just pretend it’s not happening?”
“It’s not my concern.”
“Oh.”
He searched her eyes. “I do not like to see you upset, though.”
“I didn’t expect you ask me about them.”
A strange look entered his eyes. In the bright light of the skies, she noticed that his eyes were, in fact, a beautiful smoky grey. “Now we can communicate, I will ask you questions, I’mya. I am very curious about you.”
I’mya snorted softly. “Not curious enough to speak my language.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “I was prepared to wait until you learned mine. No matter how long it took.” His smile spread as he added, “It’s not as though we had no way of communicating. There was no rush.”
I’mya couldn’t help but smile back at him. His hand released her jaw and his fingers stroked her cheek and then brushed down her neck. She turned back to face the front, her whole body tingling from his caress.
Once I’mya relaxed, the flight was w
onderful. The dragon dipped and swooped and turned until I’mya was both squirming and laughing at the odd sensation it caused in her stomach. When they saw another dragon not too far away, Nyro explained they were at the border of his range, and that it was his brother’s dragon. He talked about how different all his brothers were but how they were united by the traits that made them dragorai, and their dragons had the same kind of kinship.
Feeing emboldened by Nyro’s obvious respect and care for his dragon, I’mya wriggled off his lap to sit on the dragon’s back. She reached out to touch his jet black scales and was surprised at their satiny feel.
“I thought his skin would be scaly or hard,” she said to Nyro.
“Not where I sit.”
I’mya followed the satin scales along the dragon’s back and saw that they were concentrated in a diamond shape at the base of his neck to the middle of his back. “Was he born with—”
Her words faded when a sudden vibration rumbled up from underneath her. She grabbed onto Nyro in alarm. “What is happening!”
Nyro frowned, as he placed his hand on the dragon’s back. He growled, and bit out a series of words that had no echo. The dragon responded with rumbles and mini-roars, but the vibration continued. The deep rolling tremors sent shudders throughout I’mya’s body, both calming her and stirring the delicious tingle that Nyro had roused. She pressed both palms onto the dragon and was shocked when her nipples began to harden.
With a deep growl, Nyro snatched her up and settled her back on his lap. “You will not encourage him!”
I’mya stared at him, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“He is purring for you.”
I’mya’s mouth dropped open. That couldn’t be true. Dragons didn’t purr! She turned to look at the dragon and back to Nyro, astonishment rendering her speechless. If it wasn’t for Nyro’s thunderous face, she wouldn’t have believed it. “But how…?”
Alphas were known to have the most beautiful, soothing, and comforting purr, especially to omegas. So… did that mean? I’mya made herself comfortable on Nyro’s lap as she ordered her thoughts. Did they adopt abilities from each other? Nyro could breathe fire like a dragon… and his dragon could purr like an alpha? Why wasn’t that more well known? She knew his dragon could still breathe fire, but did that mean Nyro couldn’t purr?
