by Tara West
“Why is a child wearing the Phoenixfire flower?” Teju asked, helping Ladon unstrap the eggs.
“She played with it all night.”
“Treated it like a toy,” Draque said.
“She told me Alexi, my brother, gave it to her,” Serah said. “Maybe she’s keeping it until he returns from his travels.”
“You’re the eldest child,” Draque pointed out. “It’s yours by right.”
“I know that.” She turned with a snarl. “So you want me to rip it off her neck?”
“Ask her for it. Tell her it’s yours.”
She stared out the window, splashing the water and watching the lightning bugs, their glow distorted by the glass. “I will at the right time.”
“Do so before we return,” Draque said and stepped into the tub.
Ohh, I love it when he gets bossy, Thelix swooned.
That’s a nice way of calling him a jerk, Serah joked.
If Draque wasn’t also worried over Thaddeus’s disappearance, she would’ve chewed him out. But now was not the time to argue. Tonight was their last night together in possibly forever.
She hung her head. “If you return.”
He cupped her chin in his calloused hand, forcing her to look at him. His golden eyes dazzled. “We will return to you.”
“You can’t know that.” She jerked away. Shifting back into human form, she scooted on her knees to the other side of the bench. “I’ve seen the mad king’s strength.”
Draque followed, pressing her against the tile wall with a growl. Wrapping a wet lock of her hair around his finger, his said in a sultry whisper, “Our love for you and our eggs is stronger.”
You can fight with him later, Thelix chided. Let him make love to us now.
She wanted to fight him, at the very least tell him he could be wrong, but when he bared his fangs and gently raked her neck, her will softened and her siren cried out with joy. Teju swam between her legs, parting them and toying with her clit with his deft fingers. Thelix purred like a kitten and she melted into Draque’s strong arms, letting her lovers play with her until she was as soft as putty.
Draque alternated between nipping and kissing her neck while Ladon sat on her other side, toying with her nipples, his ministrations matching the rhythm of Teju’s skilled fingers.
At some point, they pulled her out of the water, drying her off, lying her down upon fluffy, soft towels, and feasting on her body. Draque nipped her ankles and rubbed her feet, Ladon sucked her breasts, and Teju’s forked tongue slid up and down her slick ribbon until they pushed her over the edge, her nerve endings throbbing in ecstasy.
With the exception of a few low, deep moans, Thelix had gone silent, a testament to Teju’s experienced tongue.
Teju licked up her juices with a sultry chuckle, then climbed between her legs and glided inside her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she matched each thrust, crying out as he banged against her bundle of nerves. When she’d almost reached that pinnacle, he stilled with a roar, his cockhead releasing inside her.
He kissed her tenderly, whispering soothing words into her ear, then withdrew. Thelix begged him to return while he cleaned her up.
It was Ladon’s turn, making love to her with tenderness, not giving her his full length with each gentle thrust. Impatient for that next orgasm, which was just out of reach, her siren took over and she rolled over her lover. Threading her fingers through his, she bent over his broad chest and rode her dragon with ferocity until they were both panting each other’s names. The orgasm that hit her was like a starburst in her chest, immobilizing her as it gripped her hard. Latching onto her hips, he slammed into her, then bathed her with several spurts of his seed.
She laughed when he rolled her back over, peppering kisses across her neck before burying his face in her breasts. “You’re amazing, my love,” he said.
Running her fingers through his thick hair, she pressed her lips to his temple, unable to express her gratitude for her sweet dragon prince, who not only spoiled her with affection but also worked tirelessly keeping their eggs warm. “You deserve it,” she said, stroking his face, “for all you do for our eggs.”
He rewarded her with a bright smile. “I’m happy to do it.”
“Hate to break up your tender moment,” Draque said and pulled them apart, “but your gentle lovemaking is over.” His eyes darkened, and he flashed Serah a wicked, fanged smile. “It’s time for you to get fucked.”
A shiver coursed through her as Thelix howled in delight. He bent over her, his course chest hair tickling her breasts, and enveloped her in his heady scent of sage, sulfur, and spice.
“On your knees,” he growled in her ear.
Do as he says, Thelix squealed.
She rolled over with a groan and rested her forehead against the towels. Draque dug his talons into her hips, squeezing just hard enough to leave red marks but not pierce her.
When he entered her, she gasped. He dug in deeper, anchoring himself by sliding in all the way, his balls pressing against her wet clit. He worked his magic, slamming into her, his balls rubbing against her tender, weeping flesh. Her orgasm was brutal—pain mixed with pleasure—as he fucked her hard through one climax and into another. She would’ve come undone, melting all over the floor, if he hadn’t held up her hips. His swollen, throbbing cock triggered another fierce orgasm that held every nerve ending hostage.
Enough! her siren cried as Serah’s pussy convulsed and clenched, milking him with each shudder. We surrender!
He released her and carried her to the tub. Spent and sated, she sank into the water and closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest while her mates washed her.
By the time they tucked her into bed, she was so exhausted, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Thelix’s snores echoed in the depths of her mind. She enjoyed lovemaking with her mates very much, and she prayed they’d return safely to her.
ADORA HAD A DIFFICULT time parting with Acheron. Though he was in the adjoining cavern, he felt miles away. Her other mates were just outside the cave, pretending to be out for an evening soar. Other dragons they’d rallied to their cause waited for the signal, prepared to defend them if need be. As she crossed Tormung’s cavern, heart racing and knees nearly buckling with each step, she prayed she wouldn’t need reinforcements, that Tormung’s reign ended with her.
The dragon king was sulking at the base of a pile of treasure, his front legs crossed like a feline overlord. “What took you so long, witch?”
Raising her chin, she let out a slow breath to slow her heartrate. “I am five minutes early.”
His thick whiskers dragged the ground. “It feels later.”
Turning her back on him, she laid out her potion bottles on the table against the wall, mixing herbs though the deadly concoction had already been prepared. “Your mind is playing tricks on you.” Willing her hands to stop shaking, she forced a casual note into her voice, praying he wouldn’t sense her terror.
“Do not pretend to know what is in my mind.”
“Did you have another dream?” she asked.
“What kind of question is that? I always have dreams.”
Setting down her bowl of herbs, she turned around, clutching the sides of the table and working out a tic in her jaw. “Killing dreams?”
His long neck swayed like a serpent ready to strike. “I shouldn’t have told you. You’ll judge me.”
“You should seek help. Contact the fae queen. Tell her about your troubles.” She’d agreed with the other dragons to offer Tormung a chance to seek help before killing him. If he refused that help, she had no qualms poisoning him.
He snorted a puff of steam. “And have them banish me from our home?”
His rancid breath fogged up her eyes.
“She won’t banish you.” Adora hoped the king listened to reason, knowing the chance was slim. “She can help you.”
His eyes narrowed. He was within striking distance. “I should’ve burned you a long time ago.”
She shrugged, pretending not to be fazed. He’d threatened her too many times to count over the years. She shouldn’t show concern or fear over his temper now. "Then who would help you sleep?”
Arching back, his thin, scaly bottom lip hung down in a pout. “I don’t need sleep.”
“No?” She raised one eyebrow. “Then why am I here?”
He shook out his wings like a bird ruffling its feathers. “Why are you here?” His words dripped with condescension and disgust.
She’d always known he loathed witches, but she felt his hatred for her on a whole new level. She gritted her teeth, determined to see this through. She’d given the mad king enough chances. She felt no remorse in killing him, and she knew the best way to get him to comply was to call his bluff. “Very well, my king. I will leave you to stew in your misery.” Turning on her heel, she marched to the cavern entrance, noticing for the first time that Acheron peeked around a corner, his gaze trained on the king.
“I didn’t give you leave to go!” Tormung bellowed.
Clenching her hands by her sides, she slowly turned around, speaking through frozen features. “You’re a very frustrating dragon.”
He let out a deep, sinister chuckle. “And you’re an insolent witch.” He arched a scaled brow. “Where are your grandsons?”
Her breath hitched. Why would he ask about them unless he meant to threaten them? “They left,” she answered haughtily, hoping he’d think they meant little to her, when, in fact, they meant too much.
He eyed her as a cat eyes a mouse. “That was a short visit.”
“They don’t feel safe here,” she blurted, hating having to conceal the truth.
There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “Good.”
Her patience was exhausted. “Do you want your sleeping potion or not?”
He got to his feet, and her heart nearly hit the floor. “Leave it and go,” he said, spinning around, stomping the slick floor, and readjusting his position.
She let out a slow breath of relief. His back to her was a good sign. He trusted her. “Very well. I’ve added another herb to the mix,” she said casually, though her nerves were so frayed, she feared she’d pass out.
He eyed her from over his shoulder. “Why?”
“It’s for anxiety,” she lied, praying his keen dragon senses couldn’t hear the hammering of her heart. “It will help soothe you.”
“I don’t need soothing.”
She slipped the poison out of her satchel and set it on the table. “You do.”
“You annoy me.”
She nodded at the vial, heart racing. “Here you go.”
He turned up his nose with a look of disgust. “Leave it and go.”
“Very well.” She smoothed trembling hands down her vest, then practically sprinted to the door.
Acheron was waiting, shifting on his paws as if the ground was made of hot coals. “Hurry,” he whispered.
She didn’t need to be told twice. She’d just mounted him when she heard glass shatter, followed by an angry roar.
“Did you think you could fool me, witch?” The dragon screamed. “You will burn for this!”
VIOLET’S BACK WAS SO sore from flying all day, she was forced to walk with a stoop. The air was thinner, the clouds thicker, and vegetation sparser in this rocky canyon. She no idea exactly where Goldenwand’s lair was, but they’d flown north the entire way, and she guessed it was somewhere close to the fae realm. Judging by the harsh terrain, she suspected they were at the base of the Dragon Mountains of Valhol. The clouds filled the sky, making it impossible for her to judge their height.
She’d overheard two witches talking about the Island of Gae, a mythical place which lay beyond the mountains. At least she’d always assumed it was mythical. She’d heard of it growing up, but her mother had said the tales of the ancient witch who’d cursed their goddess were only fables.
She pretended not to notice Goldenwand’s band of witches leering at her while sharing a flask beside the fire. She swore their lustful gazes bored holes through her skin when she turned her back, and she was afraid if she let her guard down, they’d seize the opportunity to take advantage of her. Their leader, Prometheus, had flown behind an outcropping of rocks a few minutes earlier with a foul-mouthed pixie named Penelope, and their audible groans echoed across the canyon.
The pixie had taunted Violet most of the journey, flying circles around her and knocking her off course more than once, calling her a feathered freak. Violet shouldn’t have been offended; her griffin body was temporary. But the taunts bothered her. Her quarter pixie blood and purple hair had been a constant source of bullying while growing up. She’d been teased for having too much pixie blood or not enough and called hurtful names. Bullies called her a wingless freak or a purple pestilence. Now she was being teased by a pixie, perhaps a distant blood relative, and it stung. If she was forced to use the unbreakable curse on the cruel pixie, she wouldn’t feel bad. She’d feel a smidgen of guilt about killing her griffin guards Eagleheart had sent with her, though. After Penelope flew too close to Violet a third time, they’d wised up and knocked the bully back, sending the squealing pixie careening off course. She hadn’t bothered Violet after that.
Despite knowing they’d all be sacrificed when Violet activated the curse in her wand, Mage Eagleheart had sent along a dozen griffins as guards. She stayed close to her guards at a separate campfire. Thaddeus glared at both camps. Prometheus Periwinkle had tied him up separate from everyone else and placed a tau stone around his neck, preventing him from transforming into a dragon. Not that Thaddeus had it in him to shift yet.
A cross-eyed witch with a big wart on the tip of his nose carried a bowl of bean soup and a stale crust of bread to him.
Seeing an opportunity to talk to Thaddeus, she hurriedly intercepted the witch and tried to take the food from him. “Let me.”
He jerked the bowl back, sloshing beans on his hand, which she saw was also covered in warts. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t give a hairy gnome’s warty ass what you think,” she said, inwardly smiling when he gasped at the mention of gnome warts. “Give it to me,” she demanded, making a face when she yanked the bowl out of his hand and scraped a scab off a wart on his hand.
It busted open, leaking blood and puss down his wrist. She’d seen this before. He had pixie pox, probably from Penelope, judging by the way she flirted with all the witches. She knew the herbs that would cure it, but she’d be damned if she’d help any of Goldenwand’s cronies.
Pulling his sleeve down over his hand, he cleared his throat. “Prometheus doesn’t want you near the prisoner.”
She tossed back her head with a laugh. “Prometheus can fuck off.” She’d no idea where she’d gotten the nerve to risk a scene, but it was urgent she speak to Thaddeus. She was surrounded by enemies. She had to know he was still on her side.
She brushed past him with the bowl and bread. She had to make this quick, before Prometheus returned.
She knelt beside him. “Here.” She scooped a spoonful of beans and held it to his mouth.
He turned his head away. “I don’t want it.”
She’d seen the hurt in his eyes. Did he think she had allied with Eagleheart and Goldenwand? He was an idiot, and she’d tell him so at the first opportunity.
Feeling all eyes on her, she said quietly, “You need to eat to keep up your strength.”
“Untie me.”
“I can’t,” she whispered. “You’re not strong enough to fight these witches, and in case you haven’t noticed, we’re being watched. Eat, or I’ll have no excuse to stay here.” Again she held the spoon out, and this time he accepted it.
He swallowed. “Where are they taking us?” he asked, his surly expression telling her he still didn’t trust her.
“Goldenwand’s secret lair.” She braced for his reaction.
“Fuck me. You must untie me before we get there.”
She fed him more so
up. “I have a plan.” Actually, it was more a prayer, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
His eyes abruptly widened. “Your face is changing.”
“What?” She touched her nose, which felt smaller than before. Why hadn’t she noticed? “Troll turds.” She reached into her pocket, uncorked the small flask of potion, and took a few swallows before slipping the bottle back in its hiding spot. Hopefully that would get her through the night.
“How much do you have left?” he asked.
She fingered the bottle in her pocket. “Enough for another day, maybe two.”
His eyes widened, then narrowed. “What if you run out before you enact your plan?”
She cast a surreptitious glance at the band of witches, who were licking their lips like she was a choice cut of meat. “Then we’re fucked.”
Chapter Ten
SERAH CLUNG TO DRAQUE like a lifeline, refusing to release him as they said their goodbyes in Brayne’s private garden. Her other mates were finishing breakfast. “I wish you wouldn’t go.”
Her knees weakened as his heady scent of sage, sulfur, and spice wrapped around her senses, and she was reminded of that same scent enveloping her last night when he was tunneling into her.
He nuzzled her cheek. “We don’t want to leave you, but our grandparents need us. The world needs us.”
She buried her face in his chest, releasing a shuddering breath. “I’m afraid.”
“We’ve battled zombie witches,” he reminded her. “We can handle one mad dragon king.”
She gazed into his golden eyes, desperately searching them for the slightest sign of concession. “You underestimate his power.”
He ran calloused knuckles down her cheek, smirking. “And you underestimate ours.”
He picks a hell of a time to act like an ass, Thelix huffed.
She couldn’t have agreed more with her siren.
“Have I no right to worry?” She jabbed him. “I should be with you. Helping you.”
“We’ve already been through this. You need to secure the Phoenixfire flower.”
