Claiming the Dragon King

by Amelia Hutchins

  “You’re a fucking asshole, man,” Remy snapped.

  “Mind your own business,” he growled.

  “I am, remember? We had a fucking plan, stick to it, Blane,” he shot back angrily.

  “The plan changed.”

  “No, it didn’t, you did. You wanted her to secure peace, you’re married, and yet you fucking abused her on your wedding night. Your wedding night,” he growled. “Wake the fuck up, man. I’ve stood beside you since you were a child, but you’re changing, and it’s not for the better.”

  “I’m the king; I have a duty to my people first. She’s the enemy.”

  “An enemy you chose to marry,” he countered. “One who was untouched by man, and tortured by a monster? She’s everything she shouldn’t be, and you treat her like she’s fucking dirt. Keep it up, because she’ll leave you, and if you push her enough, she won’t care what the consequences are. If you scare a wounded animal, they fucking run. She’s more than wounded, Blane. She’s barely fucking breathing, and you need to wake the fuck up and see it before you push her too far.”

  “Stay the fuck out of my business,” he snapped.

  “As you wish, king,” Remy hissed as he walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The next day, Ciara remained inside the tent, refusing to leave it. She ignored Blane for the most part, lost in her own world as she struggled through her emotions. He seemed content to leave her in it, bringing in food she didn’t touch, clothing she didn’t wear, or offering to take her outside to meet his people.

  His people.

  Not hers.

  After an entire week had passed without word from Synthia, she left the tent alone, noting the lack of guards. It was almost as if they no longer cared about her presence. She had dressed herself in armor, their armor, to move about freely. She’d been walking aimlessly when Blane’s voice pulled her from her absent thoughts.

  “The plan has not altered, Kerrigan. We stay the course, as we agreed,” Blane’s tone was firm, filled with authority.

  “And you think we will win?” Kerrigan asked. “You married her; you’re bound to her now. You will betray your dragon’s chosen mate with this plan; can you live with that, Blane?”

  “I married her so that when they took her, I could call in the death wish. Eventually, they will find us, and they will remove her from this camp. When that happens, he is dead. She plans to secure peace; if she succeeds in doing so, and it is granted, the Fae will rally with us when they see he is no better than his father was when they break it again.”

  “You’ll call in the death wish after he’s broken peace or before it is given?” he asked.

  “After it’s been granted, so that he falls after we’ve secured peace for the dragons, and then a new king will rise to strike against us. Zahruk will fall after him; he was there with Ryder when they killed our brethren. During the coronation of the new king, the Horde opens its gates to those who hold peace; we will be among those who enter it.”

  “And Ciara?”

  “By right of the Horde, she is my wife and my property. They’ll hand her back when I ask.”

  “And if you succeed in creating a child with her?”

  “Then I will have a strong son or daughter with a claim to the throne of the Horde, wouldn’t I?”

  “This all relies on everything falling into place; one piece falls too late or too early, it crumbles. You’re mated to her, which means you can never mate again. The dragons will never know another true queen of dragons other than the bitch you chose to put on the throne.”

  “They have a king; it is more than they’ve had in a very long time, Kerrigan. They’ll have their home back; it’s all that matters now. I plan to keep her anyway. She’ll just never have a role in our world other than serving my needs and carrying my children. She’ll create warriors,” he muttered.

  “Prepare the men to ride out; we’ll look into the reports from the scouts shortly. I have to check on her, and station Remy to trail her should she decide to finally venture out of the tent.”

  Ciara turned, rushing back to the tent and shedding the armor with a simple thought of her mind. She glamoured on a babydoll dress and then pushed her hair into a ponytail before moving to the bed, and sitting on the mattress moments before he entered the tent.

  “You’ll need to feed soon,” he said softly as he studied her.

  “Not,” she growled. “I think I’ve had enough of your touch to last me a lifetime. It almost makes me miss my father,” she said firmly. She watched as he flinched and silently laughed. She stood up and stretched, watching as he let his gaze slide down her lithe frame. “I can feed from Remy, or someone else. It’s not like I actually need you to feed me, Blane,” she explained slowly.

  “You get me or nothing else, or did you forget we’re married?” he growled as he stepped closer to where she stood. She stepped backwards, glaring at him.

  “No, no, not at all. I remember Remy getting me drunk, and then ending up your wife. I remember you feeding me wine, and then hurting me because of what you think I did. Of course, I couldn’t have controlled shit on your little soul adventure, but hey, I’m an easy target around here,” she laughed with tears filling her eyes. She refused to let them fall, not for him, no. For some stupid reason when she got pissed off, she cried, which was annoying as hell.

  “Either way, you’re my wife, and only I will feed you,” he said smoothly. “And before you try it, know this, Ciara, no other man in this camp would dare to fuck the queen. Not even if she was starving to death. They’d just watch you die.”

  “I’m aware of that, Blane.”

  “No dragon whelp? No jokes today, Ciara?” he asked as he cocked his head to the side, watching her.

  “No,” she said softly. “That was when I thought you might be decent, now I know you’re not. You’re no better than the men you claim to take women from. I’ll let you know if I get hungry; you can go now,” she said, pushing his buttons to see how far he’d go.

  “You don’t dismiss the king,” he replied boldly. “Do you know what a queen is without her king?”

  “Historically speaking or rhetorically? A badass bitch that is a lot stronger on her own without a king standing in her way, historically. I’m sure you can explain your rhetorical shit yourself.”

  “Is that so?” he growled as he backed her into the tent’s unsteady wall. “Take off your clothes, Ciara.”

  “And why the hell would I do that?” she countered as her heart raced.

  “So I can fuck my queen before I leave to make sure she’s in good health before I go.”

  “Whatever, but make it fast because you make me sick,” she said, slowly reaching for the hem of her dress, lifting it over her head. She pushed her panties down as she ducked under his arms to head for the bed. Once there, she stepped out of them and crawled onto the bed, giving him her ass.

  “Turn onto your back,” he demanded.

  “I’d rather not look at you while you abuse me, if it’s all the same to you,” she whispered.

  He flipped her onto her back and settled between her legs, freeing his cock as he did. She turned her face away from him, closing her eyes as she prepared for the pain he’d create. His fingers stroked her flesh gently, and no matter how much she tried to ignore it, her body responded to his touch.

  He pushed his fingers inside her flesh, lowering his mouth to suck her clitoris as his tongue worked slow circles around the swollen flesh. He moaned as if he couldn’t help himself, moving his fingers in a calculated tempo until her body arched with need.

  “There’s my good girl,” he purred as he watched her body tense and ready for release. The moment the climax approached, he stalled his movements and rose to push his cock against her opening. “No matter what else is between us, Ciara, our bodies
go together like lost souls. You’re mine, and this, this we do well together.”

  “Shut up and move, bastard. You’re boring me,” she seethed as she watched his eyes darken as he pushed inside, stealing a cry from her throat. She welcomed the pain, the reminder that he was her enemy. But he didn’t go hard; instead, he was fucking gentle, and she hated him more for it.

  She closed her eyes, blocking him out of her mind as she fed on the pleasure her body derived from his. She refused to allow him the knowledge that she enjoyed his body or his cock. Instead, she closed him out and imagined she was anywhere else but here with him.

  He increased his speed, pushing his hand against her throat. “Look at me,” he growled.

  She closed herself off to the pain, opening lifeless eyes to him. He could do what he wanted, but she wouldn’t play a part in his game, or anything he had planned for her. He slowed, staring down into her sightless gaze. She knew what she looked like; she’d seen herself countless times after the abuse she’d suffered at her father’s hands. Dead and empty, sightless with a vacant look that made others think she was cold and untouchable—which, like this, she was.

  “Ciara,” he murmured as he stopped. “Ciara,” he growled as he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her lips. She didn’t kiss him back, she stared forward, unseeing, unfeeling. He pulled out, staring down at her. “Is that what you did to survive your father?” he demanded hesitantly.

  She didn’t answer him; she was safe here. She was cut off from everything. She’d perfected it to survive. She would survive him too. He was broken, driven by hate, and he planned to use her to kill her brothers. She’d die first.

  “I could be gone for days, you need to feed,” he demanded. He shook her, touching her face as he moved it from side to side, staring into her vacant soul. “Then I’ll stay here to be sure you’re properly fed.”

  She blinked, sitting up. She rose to her knees and bent over, parting her legs for him. She buried her face in the bedding that reeked of his earthy scent and waited for him to take her. He didn’t; instead, his hand trailed over her ass cheeks, slowly testing the waters.

  “I’m not your father, Ciara. I’ve never hurt you, not like that. I admit I was fucking rough with you, but then I thought you would like it too. Most women enjoy angry sex, and you came with me when we did it.”

  She lifted her head and turned angry eyes on him. “I’m sure most women adore getting fucked like that on their wedding night. I bet the names are just icing on the cake, aren’t they? Tell me, Blane, do you want to call me a whore while you fuck me, maybe beat me while you take me?” She sat up, facing him. “I know, you can stab me while you rip me apart and call me the whore of the Horde, sounds kinky as fuck, right? What do you say, husband? You game?”

  “Ciara,” he warned.

  “Either feed me or free me—or better yet, get the fuck out of my face. I’m over your mood swings, and you’re boring me,” she replied icily. She stood to retrieve her dress, but he caught her hand and forced her back on the bed, straddling his hips. She peered down at him, watching him as he gazed up at her.

  “I bore you?” he asked carefully.

  “It must piss you off that you’re stuck with me, doesn’t it?”

  “No, not at all,” he murmured. “I get to fuck you for the rest of my days.” He lifted her up, pushing her down on his cock. She whimpered as she closed her eyes, only for him to rise up and grip her hair. “You’re not a fucking whore, Ciara. You’re my wife; our situation might not be ideal, but I do not intend to ever physically hurt or harm you. When I get back, we will redo our honeymoon night, and you will not go to wherever you just went, or I won’t stop fucking you until you return from it. Now come on my cock because I’m not leaving or getting off until you do.”

  “Is that so?” she laughed as she lowered her mouth close to his, but when his lifted, she turned away from it. “Do not fucking kiss me, dragon. Kissing means feelings, and you feel nothing for me; if you did, you’d know how much I loathe you right now and leave me alone.”

  Her body moved, using his until she detonated above him, her eyes glowing with hunger as she continued moving, watching the look of wonder in his eyes as she cried out for him to move, to do something other than watch her with his soft look that was as fake as he was.

  “Stop it,” she whimpered as she climbed off of him and sat on the edge of the bed, still hungry for his release so she could feed, because it was no longer only her who depended on it. Her body was an incubator, something he didn’t know.

  “Why? You want me to stop staring at my beautiful wife? No, you’re fucking gorgeous, Ciara. I enjoy fucking you, I enjoy giving you pleasure. I don’t have to love you to want those things. I told you on our wedding night that I didn’t love you; I was truthful of my feelings.”

  “I don’t want you to love me,” she said softly, surprised she could say it. “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. The untouchable ice princess can survive anything, can’t she? Yet you’re angry over the fact that I was rough with you and called you a liar?”

  “Your dragon took me where you couldn’t hear him; you want to know why, Blane? Because he chose me, he chose me before your mother was ever killed. He thinks I can save you and your people, and you know what? I don’t think anyone can save you from yourself. I don’t think peace will be enough for you. You want revenge, you are driven by hate, and that will only end badly for all of us involved. You want me to say more? He put the marks on my ribs, he asked a Goddess to help him get me as his mate, and I never asked for any of this. You took me, your dragon claimed me, and I’ve had no choice in any of it. Destiny forced us together, but you know what? Fuck it, and fuck you and your dragon. I don’t want any part of this anymore. I wanted to save you. When Synthia came here to get me and stood inches away from you, I prevented you from meeting your end at her sword’s point. I told her to go, to leave me so I could fix this before it ended in war. You had the Goddess of Faery armed to the teeth inches away from you, and all I had to do was nod to end you and I couldn’t do it.”

  He stared at her as he considered what she had said. He stood, pacing the tent as he occasionally glanced over at her before he continued. She watched his sleek, well-defined body as he stopped, turning to look at her with an impressive erection pointing right at her. She lowered her gaze and lay on the bed, turning away from him.

  “Just go, Blane,” she whispered.

  “She was in the tent with us? And the wards didn’t sense her at all?”

  “Nope, I told you then that she could be standing right beside you and you wouldn’t notice, and she was.”

  “How did my dragon find you, Ciara?” he demanded as he sat on the bed, pushing her over as he rested between her legs again.

  “When my father killed yours it found me inside the pavilion. He saw what I would endure, what I would become, and asked a Goddess to help him make it happen. Destiny of course agreed; she seems to enjoy meddling in everyone’s lives. However it happened, I was marked by the dragon which is why my rib carries a mark on it. Not just any mark, but the one to match your dragon. I didn’t know any of it, but he told me when he took me to wherever he did. I don’t know why he didn’t let you come, or that it was forbidden, but then you don’t tell me much of anything, do you? I’m just your prisoner.”

  “Dragons cannot choose a mate without a host,” he argued as he pushed her legs apart and rubbed her flesh. Her eyes closed and he growled. “Do not deny me your beauty, wife. You’re the most beautiful thing in my world, and I won’t be deprived of it,” he murmured as he pushed inside and lowered his body against hers. “I’m an asshole, I know that. I am driven by the need for revenge, but I’ve spent my entire life knowing nothing else. You’re my enemy, and I can’t stop wanting you no matter what I do. Do you have any idea what that makes me feel li
ke? I feel as though every time I’m with you like this, that I’m betraying those who count on me to survive. I feel as if when we’re like this, I could stay here forever and just stare into your beauty and die happy. This,” he ground out as he moved his hips. “This I could live and die with, never parting from between your silky thighs.”

  “Blane,” she whimpered as her legs lifted, wrapping around his hips to accommodate him. She tilted her head, and his mouth kissed the soft column of her throat, slowly stopping at her collarbone to suck her flesh between his teeth.

  “You’re mine, Ciara,” he growled as he started moving faster. “All mine, forever,” he murmured as his mouth lifted and claimed hers in a kiss that took her breath away, leaving her melted beneath him. His mouth rained kisses down on her face as she stared into his beautiful eyes. “I will make you love me, do you hear me?”

  “You better work harder then, because right now what I feel for you is anything but love, dragon,” she whispered as her back arched and she exploded without warning. Her body shook from the force of it, long after he moved from her to rest beside her.

  “Don’t challenge me, I’ll see it as a personal goal,” he murmured.

  “You’d have to let your revenge go, and the hate you feel, because with it, you’ll never have me. Some things are worth dying for, but this isn’t one of them.”

  “I gave up my revenge when I married you, you will secure peace for us, wife.”

  “Will I?” she whispered as she let what little hope she’d let in, slip away with his words.

  “You said you would,” he responded as he stood to dress. She watched him as he moved around the area, retrieving their clothes.

  “So I did,” she replied as she sat up. “Tell me, what will you do with peace?”

  His eyes found hers, and he swallowed hard as he considered his answer. “Live; my people will live free without worry of what happened so long ago ever happening again.”