The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens Book 1

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by Raven Storm


  THREE

  There were no words, just a deep humming that started with Benedict. He began with a low note, a deep rumbling vocalization that vibrated the floor and sent goosebumps racing up my arms. The other drakens picked up his note, until it felt like I was being consumed by it, drowning in a sea of sound as hundreds of drakens sang in unison. Benedict grasped my hand in his left, and the other he placed gently on the side of my face. The pitch changed, and half of the drakens changed with him. I focused on the rough feeling of his scales against my skin and closed my eyes. The wide, open harmony had me on edge; clearing the nausea from my mind and allowing me to think clearly. His lips placed a chaste kiss on my forehead, and each of my cheeks, all the while he kept up his drone. Didn’t he need to breathe at some point? As he finished, D’Arcy raised a hand, and Benedict changed his pitch again. This time, no one joined him, instead maintaining their own notes.

  Outwardly, I kept my face blank, but inside I was in awe. How I wished I could sing! I had always wanted to learn, but music was forbidden in the breeding house. My heart wished to join him, and a nagging voice in my brain that told me to do it anyway; to join in with these men around me. I wanted to so badly, but fear clamped my tongue. Benedict’s voice soared on its own wordless melody, the notes caressing my soul as I closed my eyes to just listen. Then his lips were on mine, and I parted them on instinct. As his mouth moved against me, a small warble pulled itself from my throat, weak and audible only to him. He smirked and pulled away.

  Immediately all sound stopped; it was almost deafening how quickly the hall went silent. D’Arcy raised our joined hands, presenting us to the drakens assembled.

  “May the best drakens join the Court!”

  The drakens called their assent in a series of cries and calls, the sound reminding me of the falcons who hunted in the meadows near the breeding house. Then, it was over. I blinked, my nausea and pounding headache returning with a vengeance. I realized Benedict had gestured and was waiting for me to walk ahead of him.

  “I thought you wanted to walk on your own power?” The threat was thinly veiled, but there. I took a few steps forward but froze at the sea of unfamiliar creatures in front of me. They were happily heading towards the loaded tables lining the edges of the hall, but the sight of them combined with the smell of food was tipping the battle with my nausea against me. Benedict’s lips thinned, and I wondered what I had done this time to make him mad.

  “I imagine you’d prefer to dine in your chambers?”

  I would have preferred to curl up in that massive bed and never move again, but it was a start.

  “Yes,” I whispered, no shame as I practically begged him. “Please.”

  He rolled his eyes but gave me a pointed claw in the back as he nudged me towards the hall behind the dais. He gave a wry grin to his men, raising his voice enough to make my previous headache seem like nothing.

  “She is eager to begin creating the next generation!” The men cheered, roaring their approval loudly at this idea. I froze, terror squeezing my heart until I couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did, did he? I WAS NOT A BREEDER! My headache throbbed in time with my heavy footsteps over the stone path. We made it into the tunnel before my body and nerves joined forces against me. I wavered on the path and grabbed onto his wrist in desperation. He shot me an annoyed look that turned worried as my eyes rolled back into my head.

  “Wren?”

  I threw up bile all over his boots, losing my battle with consciousness.

  I woke up not in my bed, but on one of the lounge chairs in my sitting room. Benedict sat across from me, swirling a cup carefully as he watched me through hooded eyes.

  “More concussed than I realized.”

  I tried to sit up, then fell back down as a wave of nausea overtook me. He shoved a porcelain basin at me and I dry-heaved into it, since there was nothing in my stomach to come up. I hadn’t eaten since my meager breakfast at the breeding house, which had been a slice of bread and a bite of an apple.

  “What; you couldn’t sniff it on me?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Drink this; it will heal your concussion.”

  I didn’t know what a concussion was, but I’d drink anything to make it go away, even if it was offered by him. It was becoming a habit, taking strange drinks from him. I took the cup from his hands and threw it back as quickly as I could. It tasted the same as the vial in the entrance chamber, except for one difference. This one was hot and slid down my throat much easier. I made a face, but already the pounding of my head and its accompanying nausea were fading. Benedict stood over me and gave another tentative sniff.

  “Stop that!” I batted him away, but he caught my wrist in his hands.

  “It’s how we determine if someone is injured. You can cease your female dramatics.”

  Female dramatics? My hands balled into fists, but I managed a deranged grin.

  “Where’s my knife?”

  He twitched away what may have been an inappropriate grin.

  “That’s more like it. You will need to be surer of yourself around the other drakens.”

  He gestured at the ridiculous spread of food in front of us. “Eat.”

  The food looked rich and creamy, and much too heavy for my starved stomach. If I ate any of that, it was likely to come right back up. Benedict caught my wary expression, and his face hardened.

  “If it is not good enough for you, then leave it.”

  I had no idea what to do with his anger, so I just looked away. He growled and stomped to the wall that held the passageway.

  “Wait!”

  He tensed, pausing in the passageway.

  “You told your men that you would…that we’d…” I trailed off, flushing in embarrassment. I had to know; I couldn’t wait all night, terrified he would return to finish the job, to force me into something I’d had nightmares about since I was young enough to understand what went on in the upstairs rooms of the breeding house. I felt his gaze scrutinize me from head to toe, and I forced myself to glare back. In one burst of motion, he ripped the traveling cloak from my shoulders, his eyes traveling up and down my body. I tried to cover myself, but nothing could shield me from the coldness in his eyes.

  “The draken Games begin tomorrow. In exchange for a carefree life here, you will serve as their prize, and you will do so without complaint. Seven days for seven drakens, each will win the right to your bed and coveted place on my Court. My only advice is to remember that they are not allowed to touch you without your permission. They are to win you over. As for me…”

  The look of disdain on his face made me flinch.

  “I won’t touch you while you look like that.”

  Benedict left, and tears of shame leaked from the corners of my eyes. I tugged uselessly on a curl of my frizzy, brown hair and vaguely wondered if I’d be better off back at the breeding manor. It was the same deal, wasn’t it? Sold to the highest bidder, forced to lay with men… at least he said I had a choice, but I really didn’t, did I? It was just a different kind of slavery.

  I shook my head. Benedict was cruel and spiteful, but he hadn’t hurt me yet. Or at least, he hadn’t meant to bash me against the wall. That was more than I could say about Crullfed, or the brutes they brought in to impregnate the women. Here, I at least had luxurious quarters, some sort of standing amongst the men, and more food than my stomach could cope with. If all I had to do was put up with Benedict’s prickliness and these...draken games, then surely it was a fair price to pay, wasn’t it? I entered my private bedroom and crawled under the massive silk covers, not even bothering to change.

  FOUR

  I awoke the next morning to a frantic pounding on my bedroom door. I shot up, confused at the gauze hanging around the bed and silk sheets wrapped around my body. The events of the previous day set in, and I took a deep breath. Today was the beginning of the rest of my life.

  “Breakfast is ready, and then I need to escort you to the arena for the beginn
ing of the Games.”

  The voice behind my door sounded oddly young, yet eager to please. I rubbed my face, and hopped down from the massive bed, taking a moment to wiggle my toes in the soft carpet on the floor.

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be out!”

  I went over to the wardrobe, throwing it open and seeing what options were available. Hopefully, something a bit more...normal than the ceremony robe. I shred the purple garment like a bad memory, wadding it up and throwing it into the fireplace. I never wanted to see it again. Maybe if I burned it, I could burn away the look of disgust in Benedict’s eyes when he had looked at me.

  My hands felt along the rich fabrics inside, marveling at the colors, which were as varied as the drakens themselves had been. They were all beautiful, but none of them were practical: all sheer fabrics that left nothing to the imagination. Was this another way to humiliate me? Why make me wear such revealing clothing if he hated the sight of my body? An idea sprung to my mind, and I shouted at the door.

  “Can you bring me a pair of breeches, and perhaps a tunic?”

  There was a pause.

  “Yes! I’ll be right back!"

  Stomping feet were heard racing away, and I smiled. He sounded like a child, perhaps a young boy. I’d never seen a boy, only men, though logically of course I knew there were boys, just as there were girls. While I waited, I took one of the sheer dresses and wrapped it around my breasts, creating an opaque band of fabric that covered all the important bits. I tied it off at the side, letting the extra trail down my midriff. A knock on my door signaled the arrival of the boy. I quickly bundled my traveling cloak from yesterday around me and opened the door, gazing down curiously at him. He was certainly a boy, though perhaps just on the cusp of manhood, no older than twelve. Everything about him was brown, his eyes, his hair, and even the tone of his skin. He had to be a boring, regular human like I was. He thrust a bundle of clothes towards me.

  “Here. Got some breeches, but no tunics. They don’t wear them.” His own chest was bare, and he wore a single chained necklace with a small, sharp tooth dangling from the center. I noticed a pair of scars on the side of his neck, shaped like two large circles.

  I waved his worries away.

  “Thank you. Please, eat while you’re here. If it’s anything like dinner, there’s no way I’ll be able to eat it all myself.”

  His jaw dropped. “I’ll get in trouble—”

  I rolled my eyes. “So, don’t tell anyone. Let me put this on, and I’ll join you.” I shut the door on him and shook out the bundle, finding three pairs of black breeches of durable if not the best quality. They fit well enough to get by on, even if they sagged a bit in the crotch area. I slid my boots over them and chose one of the shortest dresses. The gauze covered my back and shoulders and flowed down to top at the top of my thighs. My midriff could be easily seen through the thin material, but at least my breasts were covered. All things considered, it was an improvement from yesterday.

  I finished twisting my hair in a new braid as I came out to the sitting room, noticing the boy still standing awkwardly next to the food. The amount was ridiculous; it was enough food to feed every servant at the breeding house! Pastries, ham dripping in sauce, and other delicacies I couldn’t even name stretched out. I searched frantically for bread or perhaps some fruit.

  “Eat,” I gestured, picking up an apple and nibbling at it. He saw I was serious and dug into the food with enthusiasm. I watched him eat in alarm, wondering if that was how all men ate, or just boys who were growing. The spread would make more sense if that’s how they thought everyone ate. The thought of all that food sitting in anyone’s stomach made me slightly ill, so I focused on my fruit. I would have to slowly build up my tolerance to the foods here, so I could eat normally for once.

  As the boy ate, I casually slipped one of the cutting knives into the fabric covering my breasts. My dagger was probably still out in the darkened hallway somewhere. Childishly, I hoped Benedict would step on it.

  “What’s your name?”

  The boy looked up, dropping a bit of egg from his mouth onto his plate. I raised an eyebrow, and he put down his plate, wiping his mouth.

  “Georg.”

  I made myself a cup of tea, relishing the beverage we were all forbidden as servants. I took a sip and grimaced. It didn’t taste good at all; just bitter and earthy. Maybe I needed to add sugar and milk, like Crullfed did.

  “And you’re not—”

  “A draken? Nope! I’m human!” Georg stuffed a pastry in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Benedict found me, said my parents were killed by a band of lykos. My mom hid me in a pile of leaves. I’m from the mountain folk that surround this range. We used to live together as a large tribe, but since the Demon Wars we all split up to give ourselves a better chance of survival, or at least that’s what Benedict said. I’ve been here since I can remember.”

  Benedict didn’t object to everyone then, just me.

  “What can you tell me about Benedict? Or the drakens, or literally...anything I suppose.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  "They wear a lot of jewelry, and some cosmetics. Dark around the eyes here—” he took his middle and index fingers and drew an imaginary black mask running horizontally across his eyes. Would that make me more appealing? I considered, then decided against it.

  “They can be a bit prickly; they like to fight to sort things out. If I listen and stay out of the way it’s an easy enough life here, with plenty of food! Better than being eaten out there.” He waved a hand lazily towards the wall of the mountain, and I couldn’t help but agree with him. I checked the fabric binding my breasts, the cold metal of the knife a comforting weight against my skin.

  “I’m ready if you are, Georg.”

  He nodded and stuffed his pockets full of whatever he could. I couldn’t help but grin, reminded of all the times we tried to hide food at the breeding house. It was a small slice of normalcy in this strange, new world.

  Georg pushed on the stone wall, and I memorized the mechanism to try on my own later. The wall slid and tilted to reveal the same narrow passageway from the night before. He closed it once on the other side, then led me through another labyrinth of passages and hallways that made little sense.

  “Are we not going to the hall again?” I asked, noticing that we seemed to be descending the further we traveled.

  Georg shook his head, unconcerned. “Not big enough. We’re going to the arena.”

  I stopped, just as we halted in front of a heavy wooden door.

  “What?”

  Georg grabbed my hand, tugging me through the door as it opened on its own. The way was at least brightly lit with torches, though I realized why as the floor took a steep incline that became difficult to manage. I was thankful for my leather boots, though I had to use the cracks and crevices on the walls at times to pull myself up. Finally, the floor leveled out again, and light was seen filtering through the other side.

  “I’m supposed to go back to the kitchens now. Have fun!”

  I gaped as Georg left me alone and scampered away. With a resigned air I threw my shoulders back and walked tentatively towards the light. It was obscenely bright compared to the rest of the fortress, but after a few blinks my eyes adjusted. I stood on a large balcony that overlooked a modest arena, about the size of the grounds of the breeding house. It was carved from stone and circular in shape, with raised benches all around the middle pit. drakens were quickly filling the benches, far more than I remembered seeing last night. How many lived in the mountain? Maybe Georg knew; but there were easily several hundred seated before me now. Their friendly banter vanished the moment I stepped into the light and rested my hands against the rough stone of the balcony. I swallowed heavily, trying to look unaffected as I resolutely stared ahead. Two large chairs (I would not say the word throne) sat behind me, but I refused to sit. The small act of rebellion gave me some sense of control and lessened the spiraling ball of anxiety in my
chest.

  The torches in the arena dimmed, and a figure walked out into the center from one of several tunnels below the bleachers. The moment the lights were gone, Benedict was at my side, seemingly appearing from nowhere as he stood beside me. Several chains of metal were around his neck, as well as a spiked necklace lined with rows of nasty looking teeth. His eyes flared when he saw me, then he looked away.

  “Good morning, siren.”

  I didn’t know what a siren was, so I steadfastly ignored him as we both looked down to the center of the pit. D’Arcy was easily recognizable in the center, a blue tunic covering his chest and a heavy gold necklace around his throat. He raised his fist high, his eyes alight with a strange fire. His scales were a bright turquoise around his upper body, then faded into the deep amethyst color I had also seen on Benedict. The scales at his wrist and neck were a blend of both colors, with flecks of black scattered throughout his body.

  “We come together to commence the rebuilding of our race! After centuries of languishing in this mountain, we have a female amongst us!”

  The drakens cheered as the mood in the arena was exuberant. I felt Benedict slide behind me, heat radiating from his bare chest. His necklaces clinked together as he shifted, and I turned my attention back to D’Arcy.

  “We have not had a female amongst us since the days of Lyoness; when our homeland blossomed, and our race was mighty in number! Nor have we deserved one since we foolishly left our island to involve ourselves in the wars of humans and others whose business didn’t concern us!”

  I gripped the stone underneath my fingertips, not knowing drakens had fought in the Demon Wars.

  “We rained death down upon the lykos, the vampyres, and all other manner of demons as we fought and died with the humans! Bit by bit, we chased back the demon menace and their allies, turning the tide of the war!”

  D’Arcy trailed off, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.

 

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