by Lucas, Naomi
He’s almost too deadly for a human, any human, even while sleeping. But something pulls me to him despite knowing he could hurt me, break me in two. That he could wake at any moment and throw me to the ground.
He radiates virility, rawness, and strength. Everything that is prized in the tribes. That I prize.
Whoever—if anyone—gets to be his, they will be the safest, luckiest, most envied woman on the Mermaid Coast. My hands shake a little as I scoop out healing ointment to slather and massage onto and around his wounds, my thoughts trailing to the dagger Milaye handed me.
I hope I don’t need it.
The male groans, deep and guttural.
My blush returns in full force and I swallow thickly, already frightened he’ll be taken away at any moment.
I could handle him.
I could try.
I want to try. I’m excited to try. My body tenses, and my core flutters at the prospect. I’ve waited years to mate, suffered countless nights of longing…
And that right there, I realize, is why I’m feeling so lost.
Delina is right. It’s the elder’s choice. Mating has always been the elder’s choice since the comet’s curse.
She is the chosen female… Why do my thoughts go there? They only emphasize how confused I feel, feeding the toxic mixture of fear and envy running in my veins. My fingers and palms rub the male’s skin almost worshipfully. This may be the only time I’ll ever touch him.
I can touch him while cleaning him…
His lips part and a quiet moan escapes him. I nearly moan in response, wanting to so badly lie down next to him, curl into his side, forget all these thoughts, and for once, in years, feel at peace.
I imagine it, as if all my training, all the responsibilities the tribe has put on my shoulders since childhood, pretending it could all be pushed away—even for a few minutes—imagining that I won’t have to live to see the gradual extinction of my people.
That I’ll have someone strong beside me when things get too hard to bear…
“I know you may be sleeping,” I say quietly so no one else would hear. He spoke my language before I knocked him out, but that doesn’t mean he’ll fully understand me. “I know you may not get my words, but if you are the dragon on the beach, I want you to know—I want you to know that I was going to search for one of your kind and see if the rumors of dragons turning to men were true.
“I wanted to believe, you see, needed to believe. But I didn’t think it would actually happen, and if it did—I doubted that I would even have the chance to touch you, never mind that you would even transform. But now that you’re here and I can’t deny it, all I feel is guilt. I’m confused. So confused. I hate these gashes on your flesh, and I can’t help but think it’s my fault. I’m sorry. If you want to hurt me for what I’ve done, I understand. If you want to leave, I will make sure no one stops you. I’m sorry.”
With my mind going back to the dagger hooked in my skirt again, I continue, “It’s my fault you’re here, not the tribe’s. If you want to hurt someone, hurt me, not them.”
Desire builds within me at my words to prove myself to this male. Prove to him that I’m not a bad person, that I will honor my words and him. That I will take the blame and not hide. That I will fight for my tribe, and I will fight for him.
Because as I’m watching his wounds close shut, and while I’m spreading his hair out on the hide untangling his knots, I can’t help but know that my touch upon his wing changed my life forever.
And his too.
8
Zaeyr in Heat
Aida. The human’s name is Aida.
The other humans call her that. It is nearly all I can think of since I heard it. What a strange and simple name. Though as I test it in my mind, I find I’m liking it too much—fury should be the only emotion brewing within me.
“Please forgive me,” Aida says again. I hear every word she utters.
She asks for forgiveness. My thoughts will not go there.
She acknowledges her selfish act for touching me too, I note. I am almost awed by her honesty. She is sorry for the hurts on my flesh…
Does the human female not realize she isn’t responsible for these gashes? That the femdragon did it in her frenzy?
The rends to my skin are nothing, not even fatal. A battle wound well taken.
This human could never hurt me in such a way, it is almost laughable to think of.
But when she falls silent, I quickly realize how much I was enjoying her voice.
Aida. My mind tastes her name again. Waiting for her to speak, I am annoyed that only her soft breaths, trickling water, and the distant talking of other humans greet my ears.
I have been awake for a while, pretending, listening in on my new surroundings, deciding whether or not these humans are a danger to me.
Waiting. Waiting and figuring them out, waiting for my strength to return. My new form is as strange to me as Aida’s name, and I need to get a sense of it before a battle ensues. If one ensues.
Aida reassures with her words.
She does not know me! A tendril of anger returns. She will pay for what she has done!
As her hands caress my neck and clean my wounds, my instinct to enjoy her touch tries to overpower the fury in me. I like her touch. I like being touched. It is so rare for me to touch another; I have forgotten what the sensation feels like. I bask in it, wanting more, wanting her to press upon me and have her everywhere at once.
She has no idea what confusion feels like, I groan inwardly.
I know I still retain scales, but even they are far more sensitive than ever before. And the places where my flesh is exposed, a terrible and hungry stirring blooms. I could become addicted. A short while ago, I was in the most pain in my life, and now… Now, I am enjoying pleasure unlike ever before.
My need for revenge grows—to shove her to the ground and finish what I started, to make her pay for her crimes, to kill her and destroy this perverse bond she has forced upon me.
To subdue her, bite her, mount her. A growl tears from my throat as I consider touching her intimately, of her hands returning the favor… the thought takes over the death plans.
She is sorry! She asks for forgiveness!
The longer I wait and listen and learn from her, the more I am coming to understand death is not what she deserves.
She deserves punishment. She says she will accept it! My brow furrows slightly.
If the human bond is what my ancestors have warned me of… Her death will result in my death too. And I can sense the bond, the tying heat that already connects us. It is in my growing need for her presence.
The thought of her death should give me pleasure—like it had for an instant on the beach—but it does not. Only vengeance does now, vengeance and having her by my side. Inconveniently incompatible ideas.
I do not want this human to die.
Mating, mounting, taking this blasted ache in my loins will be her punishment. And when the mating frenzy is gone, I will deny her my protection and a nest of my making—as she has denied me my hope. She will never be rid of me, and she will suffer it for as long as we both live.
I force myself to calm down and relax before I give myself away.
But I stiffen when the human female pulls my hair out from under my head. I have hair! She runs her fingers over and through it, avoiding my new horns, upending my thoughts again.
I want her to touch them, for her to feel their power. But her fingers twist in my strands instead and my scalp prickles deliciously, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight through this new body of mine.
Every moment in her presence makes it harder for me to pretend I am unconscious.
Sensing her lean over me, I tense further. If she is under me, she cannot escape me or her punishment.
I am ready to mate. Human or otherwise, my body is primed, and will not find relief until the act is complete.
Her soft breath warms my brow. I inhale and take her scent int
o me.
She smells of warm sands and sweet jungle spices, of fresh rain and ferns. So unlike the smell of any dragon that I have ever encountered, fem or otherwise. And it has been so long, so long since I smelled anything.
Aida’s scent eclipses all others, even the femdragon’s.
“I don’t want them to take you away from me,” she whispers, pulling my thoughts back to the here and now.
Take me away from you?
Them? These elders the other humans spoke of?
My anger returns, slicing through me like talons. The petulant words of one of the human female’s return. ‘A chosen female,’ she said. ‘The elders decide.’
No one, especially humans, will decide anything for me. They would not dare.
My eyes snap open when Aida’s head settles on my belly. I try to keep my body from going rigid, but my cock spikes upward. Lifting my head, I look down at her, pulling my lips back into a snarl. But as time passes, she eases upon me, and I know she has fallen asleep.
My chest swells, watching her. I ache to take advantage of her slumber and familiarize myself with her body. My bonded human’s body. The thought makes my shaft twitch—finding the deep place between her legs where it will soon invade. Filling it at my leisure while she is so subdued, I imagine how soft and accepting it would be… while she is weak with sleep.
A plume of wispy smoke leaks from my mouth.
Femdragon’s remain open for their chosen male until their seed has taken root. Would it be the same for humans? But as the night lengthens, I keep my thoughts in my head; the distant chatter stops, and I suspect I’m the only one left awake.
Aida sighs, shifts onto her side, and nuzzles my stomach. The sensation makes me growl, and her body stiffens against me.
The female human snaps upright, her dark gaze widening as she finds mine. The blue glow of my irises reflects in the sheen of her tired eyes.
Her chest rises and falls. “You’re awake.”
“Yes.”
She scoots back when I sit up. I grab her, pulling her arms before she scurries any farther away from me. Her whole body strains under my grip, her mouth hanging open.
“Do not scream,” I warn, my voice darkening.
Her mouth slams closed.
My fingers tighten around her arms with warning as I draw her to me. To my surprise, she does not struggle.
When I have her where I want her—locked against my chest, facing me, her legs pressed to mine—I round one arm over her back and lift my other hand to grasp her neck. My aching shaft rests between us, and with a final shift, I pull her close.
The pressure of her body, so near yet caged behind these wretched hides and armor layers between us, makes me want to roar and rage.
No femdragon hides her sex.
If this human submits so easily, her sex should be open and ready for me. But as I think this, her eyes harden. Not fully submitted, I see.
Interesting.
My fingers shift, settling on her throat. It moves and quivers.
“You say you are sorry,” I begin.
“You were awake! I knew it.”
Snarling, she goes quiet. “You ask me to spare your people, but not spare you, why?”
She licks her lips and the hardness of her gaze softens—a little. “If the stories are true and a touch from a human turns a dragon into a man, then I stole your life from you.”
“It is true,” I say, unable to keep the relentless anger from my voice.
She flinches. “I know that now…”
Silence falls between us as I stare hard at her face, enjoying this slight body of hers, so powerless in my arms. There is a dagger on her hip but it does not bother me, in fact, I would like to see her fight with it. It would make her punishment all the more enjoyable.
But tendrils of wet hair fall from the thick knot of hair on her head, framing her face, teasing her skin. With my hand resting on her neck, I notice it is shades darker than my own. Like the inner tones of conch shells, I muse, petting her throat with my fingers now. Or the coral reef sands right after sunset.
I see her better now than I did on the beach, back when she defied the terror my large form should have given her and brandished her spear instead. I see her bright, honeyed eyes in the torchlight—near gold and amber in flickers—gaze into my own, framed by lashes so thick and curved, all I can think of is one word: sublime.
Pulling her further toward me until her chest is pressed hard to mine, I wonder at human breasts as I look down at the cushiony orbs squeezed between us. My fingers strain where they rest on her waist, wanting to feel them. They are soft, I note, her butt is soft on my thighs where she sits on me. Parts of her are so soft while the rest of her is toned. I caress her waist with my fingers. Her muscles shake beneath them.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she asks, a barely-there whisper. When I glimpse her face, her lids have lowered and the skin of her cheeks has taken a deeper hue.
My lips twist and stop my caressing. “Does it hurt for a human to be mounted, subdued, taking the mating heat of her mate that she so unwittingly touched?” My shaft jerks between us. I admire its size a moment, pleased how similar it is to the appendage I had before. It is heavy and tight, and I can feel my potent seed enlarge my balls. Seed that she will take! My prick was heavy when I was a dragon, but it is heavier now.
Aida quivers against me, rubbing my cock with her movements, driving me closer to madness.
My voice lowers. “Does it hurt being pumped with seed, bitten, and rutted, not only to answer for your crime but to take the punishment you offered so sweetly to accept? Does it hurt knowing that the only forgiveness I will accept from a human wretch like you is relief? Relief from this ache in my loins, relief from this new body, satisfaction from your submission to all my whims, and a brood of my own that I have wanted for more lifetimes than you have lived or will ever live?”
Her nails dig into the scales of my arms, her hold on me tightens. Her lips part. A rush of her pheromones floods my nostrils, burning the heat I’m barely keeping at bay. The need to sheath my cock inside her sex and spend my seed builds.
“I—I,” she stutters, jerking back, rubbing me while she does so, forcing the dangerous tension inside me toward the brink.
Releasing her neck in a flash, I grasp her hips to throw her on the floor so I can mount her from behind.
The next second, I am on top of her, throwing the hides aside and ramming my hips against hers, trying to find her deep. It’s hidden among the tussle of her weak armor. “You will take me again and again, human! That is your punishment!” I hiss.
Pulling her hair to the side, I force her to look back at me.
“Aida!” a voice calls out, interrupting as our eyes meet. I snarl loudly in warning. Death will come to those who intervene! I thrust my hips forward, my cock tip finally hitting—finding—the soft, wet heat between her thighs. It slips before it fully penetrates her.
“Mother,” Aida gasps loudly, throwing herself away from me.
My hands drop. Mother?
Aida scrambles away and rises.
9
The Elders
Before dawn, I’m led deeper into the cave, following a path of torches to where the elders are. Mother leads the way, huffing, upset.
She’s horrified that the male was awake, shocked that he was on top of me naked—I’m reeling from that too—and concerned for my safety along with his. She didn’t want me alone with him, and now she’s made the sentiments known, loudly, for all the nearby tribemates to awaken and hear.
I’m upset too, but for so many reasons. My body is doing strange things, and my thoughts are a mess. My core hasn’t stopped fluttering for hours, and my arousal gathers to trickle down my legs.
He was nearly in me. For a moment. The shock of that has yet to leave my body. Truer aim, and my innocence would have been taken. Snatched. And claimed.
My mind and my body have yet to decide how I feel about that.
; I keep rubbing my thighs together, trying to make my arousal go away, but it just gets worse. I’ve never been this aroused before, not even while thinking of my darkest fantasies late at night…
And it’s worse because he’s behind me, not a stride away, often daring to come closer and breathe down my neck. I can see his shadow eclipse mine now and again as we walk, and the dark sharpness of his horns pierce every gloomy corner. Even with a pelt tied around his waist, I feel his cock poke my backside every time he bumps into me.
I brace for his brutal penetration constantly.
He bumps into me a lot. To the point that if we had nothing shielding us right now, I’m sure he would have no problem rutting me while we walked, in front of everyone… slipping his shaft between my buttocks with each stride.
My core gushes a little. More uncertainty knots my belly. I imagine it. Then there’s a twinge of shame and embarrassment.
Milaye’s sisters are following behind, weapons at the ready, I remind myself. Stop thinking about sex.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, my stomach is grumbling, my limbs are tight from abuse, and the restful, amazing sleep I got lying against the male—whose panting in my ear is making my spine ramrod straight, my whole body aware of his—wasn’t nearly enough.
Around us, people waking for the day, and the first wafts of cooking fish fill the air.
My face falls. I don’t want to face the elders.
Not now. Not like this. My dewy thighs slip against each other with each step.
Mother stops before a large tent and turns to me. “They have questions, Aida, for you alone,” she adds, glancing at him behind me.
He growls, steps up right behind me so that we touch, and I pivot to face him. “It’s the law of the tribe,” I urge, peering up at him. Every time I do so, my gaze goes to his glittering horns.
