Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3)

by Mercedes Jade

  This wasn’t a game he was going to let her play.

  She mock growled back and ran both her hands through his hair, roughly messing it up as he thrust into her body, hard enough to make her cry out in surprise.

  She squirmed, pinned underneath him once more.

  The bedroom door slammed open then closed.

  She tried to look over, but Daemon lifted her right leg back onto his shoulder and gave the exposed part of her bum a smack.

  Her exclamation was a bit more explicit this time.

  “I’m not waiting outside while you go another round. It will be noon by the time you finish—”

  “George?” she called out, interrupting his rant. “Come talk some sense into your brother.”

  George came into view on her left, walking right up to the head of the bed and staring down at her boobs.

  He had his arms crossed over his chest, a look on his face that was a complicated mixture of lust, jealousy, irritation, and loyalty.

  The latter was only decipherable because George let her in his head.

  He wasn’t going to be a sympathetic ear when he had planned this morning with Daemon.

  She still tried.

  “He wants to marry me!” she said with a gasp as Daemon picked up the pace.

  His hands had found their way to her hips and were holding her wiggles to a minimum.

  “She wants to divorce!” Daemon interjected before George could respond.

  “I didn’t say that. You can’t get divorced until after you marry. We’re not married,” she pointed out, arching as Daemon sank even deeper with his next thrust.

  George reached down and gave her closest nipple a firm tweak.

  It didn’t hurt that much, but she screeched at him, anyway.

  He wasn’t even focusing on their conversation.

  "You mean I’m not paying attention to your bickering. Could the two of you act any more married if you tried?"

  “Give me her mouth,” George said out loud. “There are better things for her tongue to do than argue against something that she really wants, but is too afraid to take for herself.”

  Daemon picked her up by the hips and swung their bodies around ninety degrees, so her shoulders met the end of the mattress and her head hung over. He thrust back into her body.

  She expected George to have his cock out and at her parted lips, but George dropped—still clothed—to the floor and seized her head for an upside down kiss.

  That was when she noticed Geer leaning against the wall and watching them.

  She bit George’s tongue.

  “Geer is here!” she whisper shouted.

  George tried to capture her mouth for another kiss.

  Daemon growled and blocked her on either side with his arms bracketing her body from view.

  Seems sharing was only okay between brothers for now.

  Geer didn’t move, although he wore a smirk that said he had enjoyed the responses of her other mates to his presence.

  This was his room, so it wasn’t as if they could kick him out.

  “Why not both claim her if she won’t marry the first prince? The magic decides with a claim, and it’ll keep her safe enough. Your goal, I presume?” Geer asked.

  “We were going to discuss it further later, but your presence can only mean our time is up,” Daemon said, his voice deeper than she’d ever remembered hearing it.

  She pulled away from George’s kiss. “What do you mean discuss—?”

  “Discussion over,” George said against her lips.

  His tongue licked the stubborn seam of her closed mouth, his sharp fangs taking a nibble of her bottom lip when she wouldn’t open.

  George pulled back. “We’re both going to claim you, so there will be no running away this time.”

  They had planned this. Although she’d thought they’d agreed to more space and time during their midnight stroll—all along, they’d had this planned.

  She gave Daemon her own growl of discontent.

  “What? I thought two claims were impos—”

  George’s tongue pushed into her mouth, his thumb on her chin holding her open to plunder.

  "Two claims are normally not necessary, kerashemeria. The other thing you’re mistaken about is that we need your permission to stake a claim. The magic decides, as Geer pointed out."

  Twin pricks to her shoulders accompanied George’s mental declaration that he was claiming her as well.

  George sucked her tongue into his mouth, keeping her occupied, while dual magics burned with their ink and power, marking her skin.

  Further evidence that they’d planned this. They’d had their ink and claiming pens ready at the bedside.

  Daemon’s thrusts slowed, but were stronger, the angle shifted, so her clit was rubbed on each stroke.

  George pulled back from the kiss.

  “That wasn’t so bad, kerashemeria. You’re safe now,” he declared, looking at her new claiming tattoos.

  Daemon licked his tattoo of the drop of blood left from the needle. He rocked his hips against her with a groan.

  “You taste like my very first Aeria berry,” Daemon told her. “Prickly to pluck, but delicious on the tongue.”

  Another thrust of Daemon’s hips had her muscles tightening up around him, pleasure building again despite her outrage at their sneaky claims.

  She moaned and watched as Geer’s body twitched, his hands fisting at his sides.

  He held himself back from moving off of the wall.

  Fuck it.

  If her mates were going to do something without her permission because they thought it best for her, then she’d act accordingly.

  Geer wasn’t their enemy and they needed to see how he’d bond with them, so they could all work together.

  “Geer, I want you closer,” she called to him.

  Daemon immediately growled again.

  George turned his head to shoot what had to be a deadly challenge.

  Geer laughed. It was a dark, deep chuckle that was strained by his obvious arousal and cut short as he approached, pulling a knife.

  She’d rarely seen simple weapons like those in Maeren. Magic ruled here.

  No carvings in the handle, likely unmodified for magic, the sharp blade needed nothing else to be a threat because of who held it.

  Geer looked absolutely terrifying, his fangs growing past his lip as he gave George a toothy grin.

  “He’s not going to mark me,” Elizabeth told George. “They use torqs, remember,” she explained.

  Daemon thrust deep inside her, ignoring the threat Geer represented—the one she’d called for to come to her side.

  "Isn’t it polite to properly welcome a mate home after a journey?" Geer asked, in all of their minds.

  “You’re not biting her,” George told him.

  “The knife isn’t to taste her blood—it’s yours and Daemon’s blood that I want to forge a better connection between us. Unless you’re more fearful of sacrifice than Phillip?” Geer mocked.

  “Mate bonds between males? Are you asking to access our magic?” Daemon asked.

  “I want our familiars to meet. As I’m the only one not of your blood . . .” Geer said, trailing off.

  “You want to forge a blood-bond between all of you. Why not me?” Elizabeth asked.

  Daemon slipped his fingers between her thighs and pinched her clit.

  “You promised,” he reminded her.

  “It wasn’t an offer for a claim,” she protested, squirming.

  “It’s not time yet,” Geer said. “I won’t turn down a taste of your beautiful breasts while Daemon and George seal your claim with a proper orgasm.”

  “Take your blood from us first and then put the knife down,” Daemon ordered.

  Geer quickly sliced shallowly against Daemon’s closest bicep and licked the blood from his knife. He repeated it with George, after a moment’s hesitation to meet George’s gaze for permission.

  The knife was secreted away.

/>   “Kiss George. while I paint your nipples with the powerful blood of your mates. It’ll be more pleasurable than clamps,” Geer promised.

  Again, Geer didn’t hesitate. He bent until his lips were over her closest nipple, his fingers on the other.

  Fire and pressure met her sensitive nub, a spark of pain and then released. It shot straight to her clit.

  Daemon thrust.

  George retook her lips.

  Her other nipple felt the same fire-zap as Geer delivered on his promise. His fingers pinched the first, magic that he’d left behind with his blood-laced saliva making it like a heated clamp.

  He had exquisite control with his fingers, able to roll, rub, and apply the exact amount of pressure he desired.

  Geer most definitely wasn’t a novice at this.

  Her second nipple was released and then pinched as Daemon thrust more determinedly into her.

  She moaned against George’s mouth, feeling her entire body tightening up.

  “She’s close,” Geer said, his fingers clamping harder on her nipples as she adjusted to the pressure.

  She nipped George’s tongue. Sucking hard, so George’s power slid down her throat with a little taste of his blood, she urged George to climax at the same time as she and Daemon peaked.

  Magic joined all of them on a level deeper than just the physical.

  At the last second, she opened her mind fully to Geer.

  He released her nipples, letting the pain-pleasure shoot to her pussy as she squeezed down on Daemon’s cock with her orgasm.

  All of the males groaned, Daemon pumping into her and George biting her tongue in return to steal a quick feed—and send her into another mini-climax. This one ensured she’d not be left frustratingly primed.

  Geer let his fingers slide down her belly to her clit and took a sensitive swipe at the wetness to taste for himself, letting her feel his pleasure through their connection as he sucked her arousal off of his fingers.

  They’d all claimed more of her today.

  What remained to give them was her heart.

  Daemon had already stolen it for himself, but he’d also broken it, even if he’d never intended to hurt her.

  George had too many secrets blocking him to let him find a crack around the armour she’d built after Daemon’s betrayal.

  Geer was too new to fully trust, even if her instincts believed in him.

  Phillip was far away, but not quite out of mind.

  How long could she keep her mates out of her heart when their very souls were now connected?

  Puppy Love

  Three days.

  Geer had been back in two, but Daemon insisted they observe the formality of a three day waiting period for the light clan to change their minds.

  It had seemed like forever.

  More time for the light dragons to prepare for battle. None of them were satisfied with waiting.

  Even Pan was nervous, although she chattered away at Elizabeth’s prompting to keep her mind off of where they were going. It was becoming a habit of theirs.

  Today was finally marching day.

  Time was up.

  The light clan would face the wrath of their forgotten prince. The sleeping one. The cursed dragon, who King Rael had overthrown in a gamble to steal the kingdom from a boy.

  It had been a mistake to let Raphael live, but perhaps, even as a young child newly awakened from a cursed sleep, Raphael had been too powerful to crush.

  “So, what’s your uncle like?” Elizabeth asked, curious about the self-proclaimed light clan king.

  “Evil,” Pan replied.

  Elizabeth nodded. “I had an evil uncle, too. He was a monster.”

  “My uncle says that I’m the unnatural one,” Pan admitted. “If the dragons weren’t so desperate for fertile, blooded females, he would have thrown me out with the rogues to be eaten.”

  That horrifying statement made Elizabeth worry again about what Pan had been forced into doing too young.

  Pan had denied ever feeding another, but had her uncle pushed her into a child harem for more carnal reasons?

  He didn’t seem like the patient type, and a blue fire dragon would be hotly fought over by suitors.

  “What’s his biggest weakness?” Elizabeth asked.

  Everyone always focused on what frightened them about their monsters.

  She’d rather know how to take the monsters down.

  “Greed,” Pan answered after taking time to think about it. “He always wants to be first, doesn’t share, and is paranoid about someone trying to take over the light clan.”

  Sometimes it wasn’t paranoia, and they really were out to get you, but that was because Pan’s uncle didn’t deserve anything he was possessively holding.

  “Are you the successor, I mean, if Raphael wasn’t getting involved?”

  “Females can’t rule,” Pan dismissed.

  Dragos was the same as Maeren in that way.

  “Who is the light clan successor, then?”

  “It would go to his son, Markus.”

  Wow, no wonder Pan had leapt on the opportunity to rescue her clan.

  Elizabeth swallowed back her distaste at the thought of cousins marrying—once acceptable amongst even human royalty to preserve family lines of inheritance.

  Markus was enough of a jerk that consanguinity was actually a less important deterrent to his marrying Pan.

  “Does your uncle know what Markus is like around you?”

  The bitter, choked off laugh Pan gave belonged to someone much older and harder than her.

  “He engaged us two weeks ago, starting the bans. He told Markus that I had bridal fears and that a good bedding and feeding would show me my place.”

  This was more desperate than Elizabeth had realized.

  Thank goodness that Pan’s uncle had obeyed the old laws when it came to matings.

  A period of bans were common when royals and nobles were involved. A full six weeks were usually expected.

  There were ways around it, but it was scandalous to consider. That was only to be done for extenuating circumstances, such as when there was the possibility of a child born out of wedlock, which was definitely worse.

  Bastards didn’t inherit.

  Dead brides didn’t get married, either.

  Markus had seriously injured his fiancée when he fought her. Attempted murder a strange kind of engagement gift.

  “Does Markus want to marry you?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I don’t know, we never talked about it,” Pan said. “He did complain to Gaston that I’d probably be a boring, frigid fuck, but at least my blood was blue enough to satisfy his father.”

  “What a spoiled prick,” Elizabeth muttered.

  “Tiny prick,” Pan reminded her. “Think George still could be convinced to lop it off?”

  The violence George was capable of would even give bloodthirsty Pan nightmares.

  “I don’t know, it’s an awfully small target and such a big sword,” Elizabeth joked.

  Pan laughed and it was a little lighter. She ought not to waste any more of her innocence on vengeance.

  All Elizabeth could do would be to cover Pan’s eyes if George caught sight of Markus again.

  George didn’t even need to know about the forced child marriage plan to be angry.

  He had been the one to heal Pan after the beating she had taken from Markus. George had already called dibs on Markus’ green, scaly ass.

  “Did you have a boy, er dragon, that you already liked in your clan?” Elizabeth asked, then looked around, obviously, assuring Pan that nobody was listening in on them. She added with a wink, “Ever been kissed?”

  Pan blushed so sweetly.

  “N-not by a dragon,” she whispered, wrapping her bedouin headscarf around her face, so only her eyes showed. “Reid did it . . . when I asked.”

  One of the Dogs? George better not find out about this, either.

  “Did you like it?”

  “It was soft and
his magic felt like arms hugging me at the same time.”

  “Much better than the slobbery tongue I got stuck in my mouth, when I was twelve. Jake Sanders paid me five dollars to close my eyes. I punched two of his teeth out,” Elizabeth said, remembering the awful experience.

  Pan’s first kiss sounded perfect for a wounded, leery girl verging on her womanhood.

  “I pushed Reid out of the tree and demanded to sleep alone,” Pan admitted.

  Well, Reid was an earth-lord. He probably did more damage to the ground than it had to him.

  “Did any of the Dogs try to take liberties with you again?”

  “Is it wrong?” Pan asked.

  “What?”

  “Am I a tease because I ask them to kiss me and then . . . ?”

  “Which one of them complained?” Elizabeth asked, determined to have a word with whatever boy had tried to push Pan too fast.

  “Geer told me that I shouldn’t kiss vampires.”

  Overprotective males. She should have figured.

  “Well, Geer has terrible opinions on kisses, so don’t listen to him. Besides you didn’t kiss Geer. What did Reid say?”

  “He told me Geer isn’t his boss.”

  “And?”

  “It’s silly,” she dismissed.

  “Just between us,” Elizabeth said, slipping her hand into Pan’s sweaty palm.

  The little dragoness was getting all worked up over a kiss!

  "Reid said it was like trying to kiss a butterfly, a fleeting, delicate meeting of our lips before I flew away."

  "Except he did the flying?"

  Pan laughed in her mind." Uh, yeah. I suppose I could have transformed and flown instead. Pushing him was mean."

  "I’m not sure transforming into a dragon on a tree branch is a wise idea. Sounds like Reid forgave you, and he’s quite the romantic."

  "He can be sweet."

  Elizabeth gave Pan’s hand a squeeze and let go, releasing her mind as well.

  “Are you sure you want to face your uncle and Markus, alone with me?” she asked Pan.

  “I’m not alone.”

  “The menfolk are going to be holding back while we start the negotiations, but they have their pitchforks ready if it all goes south,” Elizabeth reassured her.

  “Uh, what?”