A Lair So Sinful

by Zoey Ellis

  “Everything is about the why,” Khyros interjected. “We cannot determine whether this was about any of the things that we have done so far in the Realm, or whether it was to do with Nyro specifically.”

  Nyro groaned, interrupting them. Their footsteps circled the bed he was in. Opening his eyes, he could tell he wasn’t in his lair, even though it was the nearest one to where he had fallen. “Sanderyll,” he uttered out.

  “He will be all right,” Zendyor said tightly. “We had to treat him with multiple enchantments and dragon flame. From his bone up to every scale and claw—everything required enchantment and treatment. It took hours. Whatever enchantment was used on the two of you, it was powerful, Nyro. He almost didn’t make it.”

  As he spoke, Nyro reached out to Sanderyll and felt a faint flutter of him. “Why is he so faint?” Nyro growled out.

  “We had to put him in a deep trance,” Sethorn said. “If he’d been conscious and experienced that level of pain, he would have died.”

  Nyro nodded, clenching his teeth as he swallowed. At least it didn’t hurt to breathe anymore. He sat up slowly, his body still aching, but none of his brothers stopped him. They knew it would be pointless.

  “Who was it?” Khyros said, his face solemn.

  Nyro met each of their gazes. “It was my mate.”

  “Your mate!” Zendyor spit. “What do you mean your mate? You do not have a mate.”

  “I started the process.”

  Tyomar groaned while Sethorn shook his head, his eyes widened disbelief. “You went against what you were told?” he said slowly. “You went against the clan?”

  “I told you what I was planning to do,” Nyro growled. “You may not agree, but I did not keep it secret.”

  “No, you did not,” Khyros thundered. “And now she almost killed you and your dragon! If you hadn’t been able to summon us, she could have come after the rest of us with the same incantation and we would’ve had no idea who she was or how she was doing it. I told you to bring her to the clan.”

  “And I will,” Nyro said.

  Zendyor stared at him in disbelief. “You do not expect to still keep this woman as a mate?”

  “Yes,” Nyro said. He rose his head and began to cast, murmuring under his breath.

  “You shall not,” Khyros bit out, his fury palpable. “She is a threat to the existence of the dragorai, and she will be treated as such.”

  Nyro ceased his incantations and lowered his head to shoot his brother a deadly look. “You will think carefully before you threaten my mate,” he said with a deadly calm. “She is being used by someone else who is the real threat to us. And it is up to us to find that person and punish them. I will deal with her personally.”

  “How do you know that?” Khyros said. “She is the one who enacted the incantation. She is already powerful in her own right, and she will be a constant threat to us unless she is eliminated.”

  Nyro held onto the rage that threatened to burst through. “I know it because I know her. She has suffered because of the war; she is easily manipulated through her emotions, but that does not mean that we should abandon or kill her. She will be punished, but by me only. She is my mate.”

  “Why do you keep saying that?” Sethorn argued. “Just because you have a woman you enjoy fucking does not make her your mate.”

  “I bit her and I knew,” Nyro said, recalling the moment he’d sunk his teeth into her. “It felt like… connecting to a missing piece of a puzzle I didn’t know was missing.”

  His brothers glanced at each other.

  “Do you remember why I told you about Sanderyll?” Nyro said to them. “His strange behavior? It was while she was in her heat. He prevented Tyomar and his dragon from coming too close to my mate in her heat. He also did not want me to leave her to come to the meeting while she was in her heat either. It took all my power to force him to take me. He purred for her when she was on his back, and he detected her in the mountains when she first arrived and tried to get to her. Do you recall when dragons behave like that?”

  All of his brothers stood dumbfounded, staring at him. The behavior was well known in dragorai-dragon males toward their mates and their omega counterparts. They were protective of them both.

  “Are you saying she’s a dragorai female?” Tyomar asked slowly.

  “How can she be?” Zendyor said. “She has no dragon.”

  “That doesn’t mean she is not a dragorai female,” Nyro said. “I cannot explain the behavior of Sanderyll nor her connection to magic in any other way. She has a natural ability and affinity for magic that I’m not aware of anyone else possessing. She is the key to us expanding our clan.”

  “But there are no more female dragons,” Tyomar stressed. “She will never have a dan askha.”

  “Then we do not expand the same way as we have done before,” Nyro said. “But we can still continue the Vattoro clan, if that is something any of you want.” He looked at each of them. “If we kill her, then we truly will come to an end as a species.”

  There was a moment of silence as they all thought carefully about what he was saying.

  “Regardless,” he said, “we must get her back immediately before we decide what to do. It is much easier to make these decisions when she is safe and in hand.”

  The brothers nodded, Tyomar restarting his treatment of Nyro’s wounds and Zendyor and Sethorn heading to treat Sanderyll. There was no doubt that I’mya had committed atrocities against him, his dragon, and the clan, and for those acts she would pay. Right now, he needed to repair himself and San well enough so that they could go after her. And then he would discover the extent of what she truly was.

  12

  I’mya sat on the bed in the room she’d shared with I’yala. It looked exactly the same, except now there was no laughter and no sound of playing in the background. She’d already visited the balcony where she’d seen I’yala die. The scorch marks from the dragon were still there, as was the doll that she had been playing with.

  The king had been immensely happy with her explanation of how things had gone. Of course, she hadn’t gone into brutal detail of everything she went through with Nyro. It was painful to think he may be dead, that the dragon he adored so much was also dying or dead. It did not bring her any comfort like it might have before she’d gotten to know them. She had betrayed him. Even though she hadn’t had all her memories the whole time, it was still a betrayal. And she had caught him by surprise, which was exactly what the king wanted.

  She changed out of her tunic and dressed in more appropriate clothes, layers of woolen undergarments, pants with a half tunic, and thick boots, anything to protect her while she was out. She couldn’t deny there was an emptiness inside of her. The idea of living in that lair had become so appealing, the notion of being safe so attractive, and the idea of being with Nyro… Before she’d gone into her heat, she’d chosen him. Shaking her head and pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she made her way down to see the king.

  “Ah, my champion,” the king greeted, holding his hands out. “It is good to see you looking your normal self.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be normal,” I’mya murmured. “Has it worked?”

  “We will know shortly,” the king said. Next to him was a wooden book stand and on it sat an open book. “In the meantime, sit with me.” He gestured to the spread on the table. It was not as spectacular as any of the Nyro’s meals, even the one she had with the other kon’ayas, but it was certainly sizable.

  The thought of the other kon’ayas made her stomach turn. “I’m not hungry,” she admitted.

  The king squinted at her. “I can understand that you are feeling sensitive about what happened,” he said. “You used an incredible amount of powerful magic, and I don’t doubt that you probably feel unsettled. You slept for days.”

  “It’s not just that,” I’mya snapped. “What I did was murder. I intentionally killed another being.”

  “But you know it was for a good cause
,” the king said sharply. “It’s not as if you did it for no reason.”

  “And we can see if that is the case when the war ends,” I’mya said.

  The king shot her a look. “We talked about this before you left.”

  I’mya sighed and dropped into the chair by the table.

  “At least have some wine,” the king said. “You deserve it. You’ve been through a lot and you are our savior.”

  “I have some questions about how everything worked,” I’mya said as he poured the wine in her glass. “I lost my memory for a great deal of time I was there. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.”

  The king nodded. “Yes, we had to temporarily block your memories because of the methods they use to assess applicants. They would have known that you could wield magic.”

  “But why didn’t they come back to me straightaway? Why did it take so long?”

  “It is not an exact art,” the king said. “There could be many reasons why your memories didn’t come back when they were supposed to; conditions in the lair, other magical activity, proximity to the pure magic that surrounds that place. It really could be anything.”

  “But that made it so risky,” I’mya argued.

  “If the war ends today, was it worth the risk?” the king asked, irritation bleeding into his voice. “We discussed all of this, I’mya. You were not this worried when you went in there.”

  “That is because I didn’t care if I died trying,” she shot back.

  “You care if you die now?” asked the king.

  I’mya couldn’t answer that. Did she care? Even if the war ended today and there was no more danger, no more fear, if she could live in an environment that was no longer war-torn, would she want to? Without her family and without Nyro?

  Her eyes lowered as tears came to them. Nyro had probably been the best thing for her since her family had died. He gave her a sense of belonging and a sense of family within his lair. But why couldn’t he care about something other than himself?

  “I can see you may have reevaluated your decision on that,” the king said heavily. “I am obviously glad you did not pursue that line of thinking,” he said. “But you cannot be regretful of what you did. It was for the right reasons. You have given me a significant advantage over the queen and that makes you a hero and what you did heroic. Not a murderer or terrible person.”

  I’mya frowned. “I thought this was supposed to end the war immediately? Not give you an advantage.”

  “It will,” the king assured. “But through an advantage in favor of the North.”

  Dread tickled down the back of I’mya’s throat. “That was not what we discussed before.”

  The king watched her closely, tilting his head as he spoke. “It was, I’mya. You may not remember, but I told you I couldn’t end the war without giving up the North. That meant I needed to win in order to end the war.”

  I’mya shook her head. “You didn’t say that explicitly.”

  “I may not have phrased it that way,” he shrugged. “At the time you would have given anything to get the dragon that killed your sister, so I left out the details, and you didn’t ask for them. You seem to have worked through your grief, and I am glad for you, but that doesn’t mean that anything is different to what we agreed.”

  I’mya shot out of the chair. “You said that killing the dragon would immediately end the war!” she shouted. “That is very specific.”

  “Yes,” the king said. “It will end the war, once I have the power to capture the queen, kill her army, and take the South for myself. That will end the war.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at her, almost sneering. “You think I would want to end the war without winning? What kind of man do you think I am? To give up would be madness—this war has already been going on for decades. There is no way I am going to have it end without being hailed as King of the North and the South.”

  I’mya stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You manipulated my grief for my sister to get me to do this?”

  “I barely manipulated you,” the king said. “You were planning on doing this on your own, wholly unprepared, remember? With your blunt blades that wouldn’t even score a scale on its body. You are the one who drew the dragon here in the first place.”

  I’mya stared at him shaking her head, her eyes widened. “What?”

  “You summoned it,” the king said simply. “You summoned the dragon.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Of course you did. What do you think that focusing exercise was that I told you to do? You were subtly calling to it, and it could not have resisted your call. I wasn’t sure which dragon would come, but I knew you would summon one of them, and you were supposed to be frightened and motivated enough by seeing one to kill it when it arrived. But your sister got in the way.”

  I’mya was speechless.

  He sighed heavily. “She was never supposed to be on that balcony, and you should never have left her there.” He shot her a regretful look. “Her death was an unintended and regretful consequence. If I had known she would come to you, I would have locked her in her room and kept her out of the way.” He paused, shaking his head slowly. “But at least she gave you the drive you needed to seek the dragon out and take your revenge on your own terms.”

  I’mya rubbed her head as her thoughts rolled over in her mind, her memories replaying the events that led to I’yala’s death. “You never told me I was summoning a dragon! It’s your fault!”

  “I didn’t leave her on the balcony!” the king snapped. “If you had done what you were told and focused on your training, none of that would have happened.”

  I’mya stared at him in shock at his attitude. He was ruthless. And he had put her and her sister in danger. “How did you know I would summon a dragon?”

  The king leaned forward. “There is no one who can feel magic in the air the way you have described, I’mya. It is clear that you have some affinity to magic. And so do the dragons. There are probably other omegas like you, but you are the one I found first. You have some kind of connection with dragons because you should have had one.”

  “What are you talking about!” I’mya cried.

  The king exhaled a heavy breath and got up from his chair. “I’m tiring of this conversation,” he said bluntly. “Eat, don’t eat, you can do what you like. You have done your job, and I’m grateful.”

  She held herself back from launching at him. He was still a powerful caster with guards in every room.

  As the king got up, I’mya turned and vomited on the floor, nausea rippling up and down her stomach. If she had summoned Nyro’s dragon, she had been the one responsible for I’yala’s death. The dragon had come to her, unable to ignore her call, and the king was saying that it was because she should have had one? How could that be?

  Her fingers brushed against the bite mark on her neck. Nyro said she was his mate. She had thought he meant he was choosing her. But what if he meant she was his actual mate? Wouldn’t that make her…?

  Her mind was spinning.

  After a few moments, the king walked to his book stand, ready to do whatever needed to be done to end the war.

  He began chanting, and the magic in the air twisted and turned. Before him, granules of ash began to form, gathering into a ball of dark charcoal. Ash kept feeding into it, getting bigger and bigger.

  The king laughed, excitement and hunger clear on his face. “It’s working!”

  I’mya simply watched.

  That ash was Sanderyll. Tears came to her eyes, and she lowered her head, praying for forgiveness for everything she had done. Of course, the Goddesses would not pardon her for killing one of their beings. But she couldn’t ask for forgiveness anyway. After this, she wasn’t sure what she would do, but she knew she had nothing left to live for.

  “What’s happening?” The king’s voice sounded alarmed.

  I’mya turned to see that the ball of black ash that was gathering in front of the king had stopp
ed growing.

  He looked up at her, his face contorted. “What happened? I thought you said you cast the incantation perfectly and the dragon was affected by the magical strikes?”

  “That’s what happened,” I’mya said. “And I left. I didn’t stick around.”

  The king released an anguished growl. “Why isn’t it dead!”

  He grabbed one of his thick magic books and began flicking through the pages frantically. I’mya tilted her head. So the dragon wasn’t dead? Did that mean Nyro was also alive?

  She turned and headed back up the stairs to the balcony where I’yala had died. If the dragon wasn’t dead, then it could be summoned.

  She knelt down in the middle of the balcony, rocking slightly on her heels as she felt the magic in the air. It wasn’t like the magic in the lair, it was stiff, sour magic that had been well used and well worn. But it was what she had used before.

  She began to seep her awareness into it the same way she had before, hoping the dragon wasn’t too badly damaged to still come for her.

  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there listening for the beating of wings, listening for anything that would indicate her chant was working. But there was nothing.

  “What are you doing, I’mya,” the king’s voice was cold. “Is there a reason why you’re out here?”

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to her feet. “Do you think I cannot sense the magic that you are trying to use? This is my Dominion!” His voice thundered through her.

  “Then you should know I’m not doing anything to harm you,” I’mya said quickly. “I’m just trying to flex my abilities.”

  “Summoning the dragon you tried to kill is not flexing your abilities,” the king bellowed. “It is suicide for you and a problem for me.”

  I’mya had nothing to say to that. She wasn’t sure she cared if the dragon killed her or not, but she did know that she didn’t give a shit about causing problems for the king.

  Just as the king was about to yank her inside, he saw something over her shoulder in the distance. He released her and ran back into the tower.