A Lair So Sinful

by Zoey Ellis

  “I think it’s clear that there is definitely some other business today,” Sethorn remarked. Sethorn was one of the more reserved and organized of the clan. His strength was in planning, reading, and strategizing. He was a unique asset to the clan, because those skills were not usually paired with the furious dragorai temper. “Nyro, Tyomar reported that you were in a rut.”

  Nyro leaned back in his chair. “That seemed to be the case.”

  “Were you or were you not?” Sethorn snapped. “It cannot be a maybe. If you were in a rut, that changes everything for us.”

  “I didn’t feel that I was,” Nyro said. “Not until Tyomar arrived, and his presence was threatening to my omega in her heat.”

  “Your omega?” Zendyor said in disbelief. “You were protective over an omega in your chambers? And you’re not sure if you were in a rut?”

  “He has had plenty of omegas in his chambers,” Tyomar remarked. “Usually not in their heat, but he has many women, omega and non-dynamics alike.”

  “Not like this one,” Nyro remarked.

  All the brothers looked at him.

  “What does that mean?” Khyros finally spoke up.

  Nyro took a moment to gather his thoughts. “This omega is different,” he began. “She has a unique connection to magic.”

  Everyone at the table became alert. “What kind of connection?” Khyros asked, his voice tight. Khyros was the most talented in the art of magic throughout all the Twin Realms. Nyro was sure that the Goddesses themselves could not rival him. His incantations were like spoken poetry, and he could cast seamlessly in all five dialects of Thrakondarian. It was most strange because he was the one who spoke the least. He was also the one unable to use magic to solve the mystery behind his missing dragon.

  “She is able to hold magic in her physical body. It causes her pain, but it does not kill her or cause any long-term harm.”

  “That’s not unusual,” Sethorn said, frowning.

  “She is also able to access and manipulate magic without using incantations, charms, or potions. She is unaware she’s even doing it, and I’m unable to feel it happening.”

  There was a moment of silence. “All right,” Sethorn said. “That is unusual. Have you had her examined?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Sethorn returned. “You let strange women into your lair and you don’t have them examined, even if they display strange abilities.”

  “This is the first one to ever do anything like this,” Nyro said. “And I have been enjoying her.”

  Sethorn rolled his eyes.

  “In fact,” Nyro said, taking a breath, “I am here to inform you that I will be taking her as a mate.”

  “We cannot take mates,” Zendyor said tightly. “You know that.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” Nyro shot back. “I know that we do not take mates because there are no more dragorai females. I don’t see why we can’t take a mate who is not a dragorai.”

  “Because it is the same as taking a hollow,” Zendyor said, his eyes blazing. A hollow was a dragorai born without a connection to their dragon. When dragons were systematically targeted and killed, many hollows were created. “It is disrespectful to our line to mate with those kinds of beings, and we do not know what that will mean for us or our dragons or our offspring. It could mean the end of our line before we’ve even reached the crest of our lifespans. There was a reason why most clans followed the law never to mate outside our own species, and anyone who chooses to do so is affecting all of us.”

  Nyro turned his gaze to Khyros. “I know this is what we agreed,” he said evenly. “I don’t care. I will have her.”

  Zendyor growled and Khyros leaned forward. “You have had many women, Nyro. Centuries of women have been through your lair. Why this one? Is it because of her connection to magic or something else?”

  “She is extremely satisfying to me,” Nyro said. “Her connection to magic makes her unique and makes her interesting, but even without that I am plagued by her in many ways.”

  “In what ways?” Tyomar asked.

  “She is the most beautiful of all the women who have entered my lair. She has an exceptional scent; it’s not flat like most—it’s layered, complex. Obviously her body is to my taste, but also, she’s bold. She has intensity and strong emotion. She fights me at every turn, then will submit beautifully when taken in hand. She is curious and quizzical; she pouts and sulks in a way I find very charming. She likes reading, being in my gardens, playing Dao and—”

  “All right,” Tyomar said, laughter in his eyes. “We understand. You like her.”

  “How do you know she is not using enchantments on you?” Zendyor pointed out. “You said she’s skilled with magic.”

  “She is not skilled with magic,” Nyro clarified. “She has a natural affinity for it. It listens to her and aids her without her needing to direct it.”

  “What you are describing is practically impossible for any lesser-mortal,” Khyros said slowly.

  “I know. I asked her about her heritage, but she cannot tell me. Her family died in the war.”

  “Which side?”

  “North.”

  “The North does tend to have casters who are naturally more powerful,” Zendyor commented. “It would not be unusual for her to have had family with higher-mortal blood, but even so, that level of connection to magic would still be unusual. I don’t know why you haven’t had her examined yet.”

  “Examined how?” Nyro snapped. “She doesn’t know a single incantation. She wouldn’t even be able to take the test.”

  “And yet you have seen her commanding magic unwittingly?” Khyros asked, his expression thoughtful.

  “I cannot feel her use of magic. I only know because of the results. Magic automatically translated Thrakondarian into a language she understands without her doing anything. I didn’t feel that happening. It was only through her understanding of my words that I realized something had happened. At first I thought she understood Thrakondarian, which of course would be almost impossible for most.”

  All the brothers were silent for a moment.

  “This is most unusual,” Sethorn said. “There are no writings about this kind of connection, and the only beings I am aware of who magic aids like that are the Goddesses. And she is not a Goddess.”

  Nyro inclined his head. “No. But she behaves like one, at times.”

  “What do you mean?” Tyomar asked.

  “She was not afraid of me. She fights me and argues with me all the time. She does not fear what I am, although she is afraid of Sanderyll.” He thought for a moment. “In fact, Sanderyll behaved strangely with her also. When I took her out to fly, he purred for her.”

  All the brothers froze. Glancing at each other. Although their dragons could purr, they usually didn’t. It was such an intimate behavior reserved for soothing another, that the dragons had no need to use it, particularly as there were no more female dragons.

  “When I tried to use magic to stop him, he fought me,” Nyro added.

  “San has been acting strangely,” Tyomar agreed. “He outright attacked me and my dragon when I tried to visit your range multiple times. It was as though he didn’t want me to be on the range at all. And then the day when I did finally manage to get through, while you were in your rut, he was more vicious than I’d ever seen him. Usually, he doesn’t fight Ryndross, but they certainly did that day.”

  Khyros rose from his seat and walked down the side of the table. It was the first time he’d ever risen from his seat during a meeting before, and the brothers were surprised. “This is unusual,” he said, muttering almost to himself. “But we cannot ignore the possibility that she could be a hollow, or trying to infiltrate the clan, or was touched by the Goddesses. Either way, we need to examine her further.”

  “She will not be examined,” Nyro stated. “I came here today to inform you that I will be bonding with her. It will happen regardless.”

  “Regardless of my consent?” Kh
yros said sharply. “Regardless of all of our consents?”

  “Yes,” Nyro said. “I know it goes against everything we agreed to, and that it may affect us in ways we cannot predict, but she is mine, and I will have her the way I need her.”

  “You will bring her to the temple to be thoroughly examined for her suitability to the clan,” Khyros ordered, his eyes flashing. “I don’t give a fuck what you feel for her! This affects all of us. You cannot just do whatever you want with her.”

  “I’ve been doing whatever I like with her for the past four weeks,” Nyro bellowed. “I will not have anyone get in my way.”

  “You want children,” Tyomar muttered. All the brothers looked at him. “She was in her heat,” Tyomar said, smiling wryly. “You considered the possibility that she could be pregnant, and you like that.”

  Nyro snarled at him, annoyed he put it together so quickly. “It is in my nature to want offspring,” he explained. “That is not unusual for dragorai.”

  “It is very unusual for you,” Sethorn said, peering at Nyro. “Have you not spent your entire life telling us that we should just enjoy ourselves until we die? To not take on any of the responsibilities of the lesser-mortals, do not concern ourselves with their affairs or needs or issues? This is the opposite of that.”

  “I don’t see how,” Nyro said hotly. “She will simply be my bonded mate, living with me in my lair. She does not represent all lesser-mortals.”

  “Of course she does,” Sethorn snorted. “What do you think will happen when everyone realizes that one of us has mated into a lower class? They will all seek to encourage us to do the same with them. This woman represents how we are viewed, and the value the people place upon us. You cannot just take the weight of that and ignore it because she has a sweet kon you want to fuck a little longer.”

  Nyro got up, his fury blazing. “You insult her again and your tongue will be writhing on this table before you finish a sentence.”

  “He is possessive of her too,” Sethorn noted to his brothers.

  “Fuck you,” Nyro bellowed at him.

  “Let me check with the Mheyu,” Tyomar said. “Before we do anything, let me see what they say.”

  “The Mheyu may hold documentation and knowledge,” Khyros said, “but they cannot make our future decisions for us. They only document and record history for the Order, and they have all the limitations that holds. We want to be making our own choices for our future.”

  “They may have knowledge of something we are overlooking,” Tyomar pointed out. “We have never used them to make our decisions for us, but they are experts in history. Our history. And a big part of our culture.”

  Khyros inclined his head thoughtfully. “True. See if they have any guidance.” He turned to Nyro. “In the meantime, we cannot make rash decisions based on instincts.”

  “We are dragorai!” Nyro roared. “Everything we do is based on instinct.”

  “Nyro,” Khyros said, coming to a stop by his chair. “You must bring her here to the clan. There is no way you can bond with her without us meeting her. If she is as important to you as you say, we will take that into consideration. But it is not something you can do on your own. You cannot be selfish in this.”

  Nyro rose to his feet, anger and indignance burning through him. Turning, he stormed out. He would not be told how to live his life. Yes, he was part of a clan, but who he chose as his mate was none of his brothers’ concern. He would do what he felt was necessary, and everyone would have to accept it.

  9

  Somewhere in the North cities

  Two years ago

  “Your Majesty.” I’mya sunk into a deep curtsy.

  “Rise, I’mya,” said the king. “I am pleased to meet you and your sister.”

  “I was surprised to hear that you were searching for us,” I’mya said upon rising. “I wasn’t aware you knew anything about individuals in all the different factions.”

  “You would be surprised what I know,” the king said, smiling. “This is my Dominion after all.”

  I’mya bowed her head. “Of course. I don’t mean to suggest anything else. It’s just that I know your main concern is protecting us and not necessarily knowing about each individual citizen.”

  “Normally that would be true,” the king said. “However I hear great things about you, and I’m sure you want the opportunity to hear me out? I can offer you and your sister safety and wealth.”

  I’mya could do nothing but incline her head. He might be able to offer it, but at what cost?

  “But first,” the king said, giving I’yala a pointed look. “I think we should eat.”

  I’mya’s stomach grumbled at the suggestion, but she hoped the king didn’t hear it. “That would be very kind of you,” she said quietly. “We have not eaten in some time.”

  The king turned and gestured to one of his courtiers nearby. “Show them to their quarters and then once they are ready to bring them to the dining room,” he instructed. He turned back to the sisters. “I look forward to seeing you later.”

  “I don’t like him,” I’yala declared.

  “We’ve only been here for an evening,” I’mya said. “That’s not enough time to decide if you like someone or not.”

  “It is,” I’yala decided. “He is in a lot of pain.”

  I’mya frowned. “First of all, how do you know that?”

  “It’s in his eyes,” I’yala said, shrugging. “Mama taught me to look for someone’s pain.”

  I’mya nodded, remembering their mother’s theory that searching for someone’s pain could be the key to protecting yourself against them. “Secondly, just because he is in pain doesn’t mean you shouldn’t like him. I’m sure Mama would say that it means he deserves our support.”

  “No,” I’yala said. That was all she was willing to offer to the conversation.

  I’mya sighed. “Are you happy you ate today?”

  I’yala dropped her hands and looked up. “Yes,” she said solemnly. “I am happy that we both ate.”

  I’mya smiled at her. Recently I’yala had become increasingly concerned about I’mya not eating, so much so that she began to steal, which was not something that was dealt with well by their faction. “Then I think it’s time to sleep.”

  She helped her get ready for bed, both of them amazed at the bath they’d been provided and even more amazed at having warm water.

  She bathed I’yala thoroughly, rinsed her hair and after the bath played with her until she was yawning. As soon as she was fast asleep, I’mya changed and bathed herself and then quietly left the room.

  “Are you ready, ma’am,” the courtier asked.

  I’mya almost laughed as she nodded. She never been called ma’am before. He led her down to the king’s office.

  The king looked incredibly majestic. His thick, curly hair looked like it was never out of place and his brown eyes were watchful. He was as handsome as everyone said he was, clearly an alpha with an enormous amount of confidence. Based on how long the war had been ongoing, he had to be at least eighty winters old, but he didn’t look it. It looked like he was in his thirties. Then again, I’mya never trusted the age of anyone who could use magic to the degree that the king could.

  She was only here because I’yala needed to eat. As much as I’mya had tried to feed her sister first, they had completely run out of reserves, and it had been three days since their last meal. It was never clear to I’mya whether the king was the one who’d begun the war, but he was certainly heavily invested in it.

  “Please,” the king said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. “Join me.”

  One of his men in the room offered her wine, but she shook her head.

  “I know you were only here to find out why I have been looking for you,” the king said. “I won’t waste your time. I believe you can end the war.”

  I’mya made a face before she realized that she was in front of the king. Schooling her features, she asked, “I can help you stop the war?
Surely you could stop it yourself if you wanted to.”

  “Not without losing the North.” He leaned forward on the table “I hear that you are able to detect magic, feel when it is present in the air and the quality it holds.”

  I’mya kept her gaze on him. She’d been able to do that since she was a young child, and her parents had told her to hide that ability. “What makes you think I can do that?” she asked evenly.

  “As I said, I am very present in the North,” the king said tightly. “Just because people may not see me does not mean I am not watching and listening.”

  “How is that ability useful to you?” I’mya asked. “You’re more skilled than that.”

  “I heard the ability has helped you a lot,” the king remarked. “You have been able to avoid ember by using your talent, haven’t you?”

  I’mya kept the smile on her face. He seemed to know a lot about them. “And that is useful to you?”

  “It’s not what you can do, it is what it represents,” the king explained. “Your ability to detect magic means that you can cast more successfully than anyone else in the lands. Potentially even more successfully than me and the queen.”

  I’mya stilled. Without moving her eyes from the king, she noted where all the exits were in the room and began to consider how she could get to I’yala and leave.

  “You do not have to panic,” the king said slowly. “You will not be dragged into this war.”

  “You just implied that I may be more powerful than you and the queen,” I’mya said. “I think that is certainly dragging me into it.”

  “I’m only offering you an opportunity,” the king said. “You do not have to take it if you choose not to. I believe that you should want to help your fellow Northerners. I won’t force you, but your life as you move forward will be determined by this decision. If you choose not to end the war, you are choosing to continue the life you have with your sister, putting her at risk every day, living day to day, never knowing when your next meal will arrive… keeping her in danger. What I’m asking is that you give me a chance to help you develop the skills that you would need to end the war.”