by Raven Storm
Benedict’s anger was a tangible force that kept me pressed down to the floor in fear. Kieran’s mouth wavered, but he offered no defense.
“You will stay away from her.”
Kieran bristled, shooting an indignant look to D’Arcy.
“If she chooses—”
“GET OUT!”
Kieran’s lips thinned into a straight line, but he didn’t say anything else. He bent down to grasp Ronan’s body, and he lifted him easily over his shoulders. He left through the same archway he’d brought me.
D’Arcy stepped forward. For as angry as Benedict looked, D’Arcy was exuberant.
“This would have made a great task—"
“Leave.”
Benedict turned his furious glare on D’Arcy, who visibly deflated.
“But I thought—"
“NOW!”
D’Arcy jerked, then spun on the spot and disappeared. I started to hyperventilate, realizing that anyone who cared about me was gone, and I was alone with an angry, raging draken who hated me. It didn’t matter that he’d saved me twice now; all I could feel was the raging current of emotions pouring from him. I curled tighter into myself, praying none of it would be directed at me. He sighed, and it was an odd, regretful sound that made me peek at him warily.
“I am not angry with you. For once.” His eyes blazed with an amethyst fire. “Though to be fair, you are quickly becoming the biggest pain in my ass.”
I flinched as he moved towards me, but he only knelt beside me, gently supporting my back as he took in my injuries. Not all men will hurt you. Not all men cause pain.
“Ah,” I slurred back with bravado, “you notice a pain in your ass, at least.”
An amused grunt burst from his lips, then it was gone. “Everyone can’t help but notice you; that seems to be our main problem.”
All I cared about was making some of the pain stop. My head flopped to the side as the wound on my chest continued to bleed, and I doubted my arm was supposed to be at that angle.
“You gonna lick me again? ‘Cause it hurts.” A snort was his only reply, even as his lips hovered above my chest.
“Just to be clear, I’m only doing this because you asked me to.”
I didn’t give a shit; all I cared about was stopping the pain. I tangled my fingers in his hair and jerked his head to the blood on my chest. He sucked in a panicked breath, then his lips found the wound. His hands moved to steady us both; one holding the back of my neck, the other gripping my waist. The most glorious, numb feeling spread throughout my body, the worst of the pain fading into nothingness as his tongue danced across my skin. I felt his fangs graze the area around my wound, and a bolt of arousal shot through my core. I pushed it away in panic, and tried to focus on something else; something rational…
“Why did they all come? What happened?”
I held onto him as the cuts on my chest healed, itching as scar tissue developed and stretched. Benedict rested his head in the hollow of my neck, nearly vibrating with tension. Did my blood taste that awful?
“You let out a distress call. Every draken in this castle heard it and tried to answer. It...it caused panic because none of us have heard a distress call since the last—since…” He trailed off, not finishing his thought.
My mind raced, not understanding. “A distress call? But what—"
The pad of his thumb ran softly over my lips, silencing whatever else I had to say. He sniffed my neck, and I tried and failed to not enjoy the sensation of him so close to me. It was the blood loss, I told myself.
“I need to heal you before you die. Your arm and ribs are broken, and you likely have internal bleeding. I can’t heal that with my tongue.”
“You could try.”
He barked a laugh, and it tugged a smile from me.
“Now I know you’re dying.” He shifted against me and pulled me into his lap. I moaned as my body protested each movement, barely noticing when Benedict lifted the inside of his wrist to his mouth and bit down. Inky, dark blood dripped from his wrist, and he held it up to my mouth. I pulled away from him.
“You have to drink it; it’s the only way you won’t die.”
That wouldn’t be so bad, would it? I’d be free of him, free of the pain, and free of this awful, worthless life…Kieran’s eyes swam before me, and I could already feel his disappointment if I were to die.
If you die, then it can’t get better, can it?
But it was Benedict’s blood I had to drink, not Kieran’s. I clamped my lips shut, shaking my head stubbornly. Benedict growled in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Are you that much of a coward?”
That was rich, coming from him. Still, I couldn’t die without trying to set the record straight.
“You—are—mean.”
He rolled his eyes, unconcerned with his own blood being wasted on the floor.
“Mean people don’t try to save annoying little humans. You are the one who has done nothing but yell and scowl at me since I brought you here.”
“‘S not—"
With a frustrated growl he put his wrist to own mouth, seemingly drinking his own blood. What was he doing? Without warning he kissed me, my mouth dropping open in shock. His blood seeped in my mouth, coating my tongue and swelling into the hollows of my cheeks. I swallowed reflexively as he pinched my nose shut, and his arms tightened around me as I tried to jerk away. His thumb stroked a light pattern as he hissed soothingly, trying to coax me to swallow more. I moaned as more of the pain faded away, and something in his demeanor changed as he let go of me. He kissed me for real then, his teeth biting and nipping as I groaned against him, but this time it had nothing to do with pain. His blood sang in my veins, healing and soothing, and having no business tasting as good as it did: it was blood, after all. It tingled on my tongue, spiced yet sweet, cooling the fires of pain in my body.
My arm felt fine, so I lifted it and ran it down his chest as our lips tangled, feeling the unique texture of the scales covering his skin, yet careful of the wounds from his battle with the Skolex. He clutched me tighter to him, kissing me so intensely that I thought he would simply devour me. If Kieran’s kisses were honest and Ronan’s were frantic, Benedict’s were possessive. His growl reverberated in my head, shooting down into that warm spot below my belly and curling my toes with need. My hand was in his hair, and I grasped the silky strands between my fingers harshly, pulling him closer even as the nails of my other hand dug into his back. The others might not like the pain, but I knew Benedict would; he understood that part, didn’t he? He pressed himself into me as my nails dug harder. I could feel the warm buzz of his blood fading away, and the pain returning. I broke the kiss and grabbed his wrist, yanking it to my face. Benedict’s eyes swelled with arousal as I willingly sucked the blood from his wrist, the feeling of intense need and power coursing through my veins. His breathing hitched and his pupils dilated as he took in the sight of me, his blood dripping from my chin. Something in him broke, and I was thrown back onto the floor as he grinded his hips into me, his mouth frantic yet brutal. I bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and greedily drank that down, too. My entire world was him; every sensation, every stroke and caress, every drop of blood I could squeeze from his veins was another piece of him inside of me.
Benedict moved to my neck, his lips and fangs carving a road down my collarbone and above my breasts, leaving marks but no blood. The rough planes of his tongue drifted lazily over the scars on my chest, discarding the ripped patch of fabric aside as he searched for any unhealed patches of skin. My hips thrust against his, and before I could meet him, his mouth went lower as he ripped my dress further, exposing my breasts. His teeth nipped and bit, the pain a delicious aphrodisiac, as his pelvis continued to push against mine, over and over again. He sucked hard on one nipple and I cried out, twisting my fingers in his hair. His free hand attacked my other breast, and I threw my head back in bliss between his sucking and pinching.
I cried out agai
n, but the sound was animalistic, a shriek of intense pleasure that resonated deep within my chest. Benedict twitched at the sound, grabbing my neck and squeezing. There was something so deliciously feminine about having his power unleashed on me in this way, and though something may be deeply wrong with me, I wanted more.
“If you make that sound again, you won’t be leaving this room without becoming mine.”
His voice was so rough with desire I panted, and I tried and failed to find fault with what he said. I shook my head, remembering I was supposed to hate him. More to the point, he was the one who hated me, wasn’t he?
“Let me go.”
He squeezed my neck again, not to hurt me, but just to remind me of his position of power over me. I cursed as my body immediately went limp in submission. Some part of me wanted this, craved it, even, and it was much stronger than my rational brain. How long would I keep fighting it?
“As you wish.”
I went rigid in confusion as the cool air replaced the heat of his body. He was backing away, his eyes pained as he nearly stumbled in his effort to get away from me.
“My apologies. I got caught up in... instincts.”
I raised my face to him.
“Instincts?”
He held out his hand, his face devoid of any emotion. I knew then that whatever had just happened...whatever we had just shared, was gone. Benedict was all rigid muscles and tightly controlled stiffness.
“Let’s get you to bed. The third Game is tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I whispered back, confused and sad.
NINE
I sat dully on my chair next to Benedict, exhausted. I blinked blearily, not interested in the breakfast laid before me. I’d spent the night tossing and turning, the feeling of Benedict’s body against mine plaguing me all night.
“You look awful.”
Benedict appeared in his own chair, his usually unaffected self. It made me want to punch him.
“Don’t you ever walk places like the rest of us?”
He snorted, a rare grin turning the corner of his mouth before it disappeared. I looked away, unable to keep up with his changing moods. I longed to be with Kieran and ask his opinion; dear Kieran, who cared only for my happiness and well-being. Instead, I was stuck here with Mr. stick-up-his-ass.
“What is the task today?” I asked, mostly to distract myself. He faced me fully, and I struggled not to blush. After yesterday, I found it hard to meet his eyes. He sneered, and I knew I had to decide. Either I was going to continue to let him walk all over me, or I was going to be the new Wren.
“I’d say all drakens were rude, but experience has told me it’s just you.”
His head whipped back to me, interest flaring in his eyes.
“What you know about drakens could fill a drop of rain.”
I refused to look at him, knowing I’d lose my nerves if I saw his face. I kept my gaze steady over the arena, which was filling up with eager spectators.
“Then educate me, oh benevolent king.”
He growled, then exhaled again through nose. I couldn’t help but admire how the firelight caught the hidden tones of green in his purple and black scales.
“Fine. I will tell you some basics, but only to stop your nagging.”
He took a breath.
“Not all of our females died on Lyoness.”
I went very still in my chair, wanting—no, needing—him to continue.
“Most of them did; hunted down and slaughtered like animals. There was one though, they took her alive. I don’t know if the vampyres holding her thought they could ransom her as the last female draken or not, but they kept her for weeks. Whatever the reason, it was a gift from gods as she was pregnant. She endured torture, beatings, and near starvation, but she held on for the child she carried. She hid her pregnancy from her captors and was forced to give birth in a filthy cell, alone and fighting for her life. As the vampyres came for her child, she used the blood of her labor to lay a powerful enchantment on the baby, sacrificing her life to keep the last draken babe safe. Her enchantment was strengthened by one my fa—by another spell nearby, and the combined power ensured that no one except the draken king could claim the child. The lost daughter disappeared into history and was never heard from again.”
He laid his head back against the stone, his eyes closed.
“That power is what keeps us here, and lets me know she is still out there, somewhere. It was black magic of the most magnificent kind.”
My hands covered my mouth in horror. “That’s so sad, and yet so…”
“I know.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, I felt like I saw him. Then he looked away. “What was the draken’s name?” I asked. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt important that I knew.
“Rhyfel.”
Goosebumps erupted along my skin, and I crossed my arms to ward off a sudden chill.
“Kieran said you keep everyone under the mountain, not some enchantment.”
He looked away.
“The child is lost to us, so I can’t claim what doesn’t technically exist. Besides, how would you feel if your mate were picked out before you were even born, and you had no choice in the matter—” He cut himself off, realizing he was revealing too much.
“Yeah, how awful would that be, to have no choices in life?” I snapped back, then sighed.
“Just… maybe if you introduce me to some of the other drakens, it will make this easier. I would have someone else to bother and talk to.”
His mouth tightened.
“Fine. I will...introduce you to a few of the drakens I can actually stand to be around.”
I aimed for a lighter tone, feeling guilty for darkening his mood with such an unhappy story.
“Thank you, oh mighty king.”
I’d meant it in jest, but he closed his eyes and sighed. I put a hand on his arm, not sure why I’d felt the sudden need to comfort him.
“You will find her. You must. It’s a great story, and all great stories have happy endings.”
He leaned in, running his hand softly over my cheek. His gaze was searching, as if I were some great puzzle he had yet to figure out.
“My stupid little siren.”
It was tempting to punch him, but his eyes were too sad, taking all the venom out of his insult.
“There are no happy endings, just moments where the world doesn’t seem all bad.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
“Do you know where she is, this lost daughter?”
Benedict nodded, and I prodded further.
“Do the other drakens know?”
A pause, then he shook his head no. I ran my fingers down his forearm, my nails scraping against his skin. To my surprise, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Then in one smooth motion, he stood.
“One more question,” I begged, knowing this tentative peace between us was unlikely to last. He shot me a resigned look, since both of us knew that was impossible.
“If this lost draken is still out there, why are you bothering with me? It can’t just be for your men. That’s only an excuse.”
He frowned as he contemplated what to say.
“You have shelter, food, and company, even if it is questionable. Is this life better than your previous one?”
I snorted. “Of course, it is—"
“Then don’t question it.”
I growled in frustration and turned to watch the task. Threatened by Benedict, D’Arcy had been forced to severely scale down his plans and had opted for a large obstacle course instead. The safety of the task meant nearly all drakens were involved, forcing D’Arcy to have to break the crowd into different groups. Each group would race at the same time, and the top two winners from each group would then face off in a winner-take-all race at the end. Knowing there was a distinct lack of danger, I was interested to watch. Hoops dangled from the ceiling, posts were set up around the pit, and narrow lines drawn in bright red to mark the path.
<
br /> “This should be entertaining,” I muttered. Benedict grunted.
“On my mark….one, two, GO!”
The first group of drakens exploded into action, a few tripping and pushing others out of the way in order to get to the obstacles first. A large wall was the first task, and the first two drakens easily scaled it, dropping to the sand below and continuing onto the next obstacle. As more drakens clustered to climb, they pushed and shoved at each other, more focused on blocking someone else than just working on their own progress. The two drakens up front gained a substantial lead.
“Bair and Sabien are my remaining blood relatives, aside from D’Arcy.”
Benedict’s voice washed over me, obvious pride as he pointed out the two drakens in the lead. One obviously shared Benedict’s amethyst and obsidian coloring, the other D’Arcy’s bright turquoise scales and blonde hair. They easily hurtled obstacle after obstacle, and then took to the air. The other drakens were far behind, still more worried about taking each other out. They easily crossed the finish line first, the purple one inching out the turquoise draken by a hair. D’Arcy beamed in pride. Benedict stood and clapped for his brother. The draken turned and gave me a saucy wink, then flew back to the spectator area with his cousin.
“Lovely,” I drawled. Benedict sniffed, and I turned by attention to the next group. Seven groups later, there had been nothing too exciting except a few crashes and collisions, with no permanent damage. There was an excited buzz filling the arena as the last sixteen drakens lined up to compete in the final heat to win it all.
“Remember, two drakens tonight.”
I made a face at him. D’Arcy took to the air, hovering over the finish line.
“GO!”
Benedict’s brother immediately tripped D’Arcy’s son, causing the turquoise colored draken to fall face first in the mud. I scowled at the obvious foul play, but Benedict only chuckled. To his credit, the turquoise draken just got up and focused on getting through the obstacles as fast as he could, ignoring the other drakens. I couldn’t help but admire the grace and strength of D’Arcy’s son as he quickly caught up to the other drakens, then began to pass them. A draken with brown scales reached out to trip him, and he nimbly skipped away. My hands clutched the armrest of my chair as I silently cheered for him.