He envisioned himself in his natural form, reached for it in his mind’s eye, willed himself to feel it again. Soon, his limbs were trembling, and his heartfire was locked in a pitched battle with the currently icy mating bond, sending alternating waves of hot and cold throughout his body.
He was Falthyris the Golden, mightiest dragon in the region. None remained who could oppose him. And he would reclaim his natural body!
His lips curled, and a low, pained growl escaped him. He kept his struggle up as long as he could, but the change did not come. Fire did not consume him and reshape him.
Finally, he released his focus. His body sagged, and he bent to brace his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath and waited for the pounding in his head to subside.
Expelling a huff of fire, he paced across the sand, snarling whenever his ungainly feet lost purchase and his balance was threatened. His cock throbbed, and seed continuously dripped from its tip. It was so overly sensitive that even the feel of the air against it was painful. He refused to touch it again, refused to debase himself further.
He halted his pacing only when he neared those pieces of fallen stone, slashing them with his claws, striking them with fists and feet, and heaving them across the chamber. That they still cracked and broke under his blows provided little consolation; no matter how much of his strength he retained, he was still trapped in this unwanted body.
And the one who’d forced him into this shape, his female, was still at the river. She was alone, armed only with a stone-headed spear while the red comet was in the sky and its curse worked the world’s beasts into a mating frenzy.
I left my mate alone and undefended.
The mating bond constricted around his heartfire, nearly snuffing it out, and Falthyris stumbled. He slapped a hand onto a nearby stone to keep himself upright, chest and shoulders heaving. The guilt and alarm he’d just felt…he’d not experienced their like in ages, if ever at all. The closest to this feeling had been when the comet first appeared and tore the world—and his life—to pieces.
“No,” he growled, shoving away from the stone.
The human was the guilty party, she was the one who’d wronged him, and she should have considered herself fortunate that he’d not yet exacted vengeance upon her. The human had stolen from Falthyris. That could not be excused. If she were mauled or devoured by a blood-maddened beast, that was simply the universe delivering retribution for her crime.
And yet the very thought of some creature attacking her made his heart quicken and his loins tighten, producing a sinking feeling in his gut.
He needed to return to her now. He needed to ensure she was safe, needed to protect her from the world and the many dangers it posed to beings as small and weak as humans. He needed to be at her side and—
Fires of rage swelled within him, briefly beating back the Heat and his mating bond. Falthyris turned the renewed surge of fury on one of the larger rocks, tearing it apart chunk by chunk amidst a torrent of blows, roaring throughout. His throat burned as his roar echoed off the walls of his lair, building upon itself to envelop him.
And despite its power, that roar was but a ghostly echo of what it had once been—just like Falthyris himself.
6
Elliya stood in the shallows, washing away days’ worth of sweat, dirt, and sand from her body as she listened to the distant roars. She knew those sounds were coming from her mate. What other creature would be throwing such a childish temper tantrum right now?
She snorted as she cleaned her tender sex. Had she traded one spoiled male for another?
“None of the stories mentioned dragons acting like children who have been denied their favorite playthings,” she muttered.
She didn’t understand his anger, didn’t understand what he thought she’d done to him. He had come to her.
Perhaps the Red Star was affecting his mind as much as his body? It wasn’t as though she had denied him access to her, it wasn’t as though she’d pushed him away. He’d used her body to gain the relief he so clearly needed, but then he’d ranted and raged at her. He seemed to have been more keen on killing her than mating her.
Another series of roars sounded in the distance.
Well, at least I know he is not far.
She lifted a hand to touch her chest. There was a coldness there, a tightness, that made her heart ache and subtly sought to pull her toward her dragon.
“Insolent, insignificant insect?” She sneered as she stomped out of the river. “You are little more than a domineering, rude, overgrown lizard. Ha! Yes, a lizard.”
Elliya would be sure to call him that next time.
Wet skin pebbling in the cool night air, she tied on her loincloth, slipped on her sandals, and donned her robe, grumbling as the moisture made the fabric cling to her in several places. Such petty things did not normally bother Elliya, but she was exhausted both mentally and physically. A quick assessment of the stars in the sky told her there were only a few hours before dawn. She’d been awake for a long while.
She glanced in the direction of her male when he roared again, wondering whether she was only imagining the faint vibrations in the ground. He couldn’t possibly make the earth shake from so far away with just a roar, could he? Regardless, if he wished to continue his tantrum, so be it. She’d sleep here for the rest of the night, and if—or when—he had need of her, he could come to her himself.
Her dragon’s roars finally fell silent, reminding Elliya again of a child—this time one who’d tired himself out during his little fit. She smiled and shook her head. Perhaps after he’d slept, he would be in a better mood.
When another faint tremor rumbled through the ground beneath her feet, unaccompanied by the dragon’s roar, Elliya’s heart skipped a beat. If not him, then…
A patch of sand mere paces away from her shifted, collapsing into itself as though being sucked into a hole. Elliya snatched up her spear, which had been standing beside her, and leapt backward as long, thin, segmented legs emerged from the sand, and the creature that had been buried beneath dragged itself to the surface.
Sand poured from the top of its carapace, which was about as large as Elliya’s torso and had several erect spines protruding from it. The creature’s spindly legs were nearly as long as her own, jutting out from the sides of that bulbous, spiked head. A pair of smaller legs flanked its mandibles, each tipped with broad, flat claws. The creature’s long tail emerged last, sending up a fresh spray of sand. That tail was lacking the armor of the creature’s front, and sand clung to its smooth, pale flesh.
A shorelurker—and easily the biggest one Elliya had ever seen. From its chittering mandibles to the tip of its tail, it was nearly twice as long as she was tall.
The shorelurker turned toward her. All six of its dark, beady eyes gleamed with tiny reflections of the Red Star. The creature spread its mandibles, parted its claws, and released a high-pitched shriek that sent a chill up Elliya’s spine. It launched itself at her with its tail undulating wildly and its head curled down to angle its spines forward.
Elliya leapt aside. The shorelurker darted through the air within arm’s reach of her. She raised her spear as she pivoted to face the creature, which came down on the sand and skidded to a halt, its gangly legs pumping furiously.
This was not normal. Shorelurkers were ambush hunters—they waited under sand or mud near bodies of water for unsuspecting prey to approach, shoving themselves up out of the ground to drive those venomous spines into the feet and soft underbellies. They did not attack prey in the open.
And dragons swooping down from the heavens to mate with human women is normal? This is the Red Star, the Blood Moon. Everything is different for now.
The shorelurker turned around and charged at her again, this time keeping its belly on the ground. Its tail lashed back and forth with rapid, hypnotic rhythm, spraying sand in its wake.
A single prick from one of the shorelurker’s spines was all it would take to seal Elliya’s fate. The venom wo
uldn’t kill her—at least not immediately—but it would slow her down enough to effectively end the fight.
She would not allow the night of her greatest triumph, the night when the tribe had gained its first dragon member in untold generations, to also be the night of her death. She would not perish here—not while her dragon had yet to accept her. Not while everything she had hoped for was just within her grasp.
As though in response to her thoughts, she felt a little flare of heat in her heart. The feeling was faint, barely perceptible, but there was a whisper of alarm, pride, arrogance, rage, and possessiveness within it. Though the sensation was but a flicker, it was powerful.
Something roared in the distance, but the sound was obscured by her pounding heart.
Was that him, or was it simply a ghost of what she hoped could be?
It didn’t matter; he wasn’t here now. Elliya had only herself to rely upon.
A huntress is strong and selfless.
Elliya thrust her spear at the charging creature. The stone head struck the shorelurker’s carapace dead center, between its six eyes, with a resounding clack that resonated up the spear shaft and nearly made her lose hold of the weapon. The blow didn’t break the creature’s natural armor, but it was enough to stun it.
The shorelurker halted for a moment before curling away, chittering and shrieking as its legs and tail thrashed.
A huntress is the heart of her people—steady, brave, unwavering.
She lunged after the retreating creature, guiding her spear toward the spot where the shorelurker’s tail and armored head met. The creature’s wild, erratic movements caused her thrust to miss its mark. The stone spearhead grazed the outside of the shorelurker’s tail. Flesh tore open, and dark blood oozed from the wound. The creature’s frenzy intensified.
The shorelurker spun again and scrambled toward Elliya, snapping its claws and rattling its mandibles. She retreated hurriedly, jabbing at it with her spear over and over, seeking any opening, any weakness, but none of her blows landed with enough force to cause any damage until the tip plunged into one of the creature’s eyes.
The shorelurker shrieked, swinging its clawed appendages as though to clear away its eye, but the spear had already been withdrawn—and the wound, oozing dark ichor, seemed to little slow the creature as it resumed its attack.
I am a huntress, and my heart beats fierce…and it also beats true.
It beats…for my dragon.
Elliya did not know where that last thought had come from, and she didn’t have time to consider it—her spear found its mark for a second time that very instant, hitting one of the shorelurker’s arms at its first joint and tearing the whole limb off. The shorelurker recoiled with an agonized cry.
Its tail whipped forward, striking Elliya’s thigh. The force of that blow twisted her leg, making her stagger aside and leaving her knee suddenly weak. She gritted her teeth and growled against the layered pain—a sharp sting on the surface, a dull, pulsating ache in the muscle and bone beneath.
The shorelurker coiled its tail and leapt at Elliya again, turning down its head to present those poisonous spines.
“I am a huntress,” she grated, swinging her spear with all her might. Again, fire flared in her heart, but it was stronger this time, arcing out into her limbs.
The shaft caught the side of the oncoming shorelurker’s carapace. Elliya followed through with the swing, her muscles straining, despite the jolt of impact that ran through the wood. Whether she knocked the shorelurker aside or shoved herself away from it she could not determine. The spiked carapace flew past her face a mere hand’s span away—close enough for her to see the beads of venom glistening atop each spine. One of those hard, spindly legs struck the side of her head, dazing her briefly.
Her aching leg buckled, and she stumbled back before catching her balance, feet coming to rest on damp sand. Elliya was suddenly aware of the river immediately behind her, of its sound, of the cool air flowing over its surface. Apparently, she’d been turned around during the skirmish. Her heel sank in the soft ground, and her body swayed. Her heart leapt into her throat.
The shorelurker’s tail swung at her from the side, striking her heavily in the chest. The air fled her lungs, and she fell backwards—directly into the river. Her fingers lost their grip on the spear shaft, and the current swept the weapon away.
As the water closed in around her, filling her ears with the quiet, soothing sound of its flow, she thought she heard a roar again—not just from outside the water, but from somewhere deep within her.
Elliya righted herself and kicked to the surface. Both her sandals had fallen off, just as lost now as her spear. She gulped in air the instant her head emerged, filling her burning lungs and releasing a sputtering exhalation before taking in another desperate breath.
Her time beneath the surface had been enough for the current to catch her. She was already near the middle of the river, watching the shore drift by.
Movement on the bank caught her attention, and she turned her head in time to see the pale form of the shorelurker plunging into the water.
Eyes wide, she set her arms and legs into motion, swimming for land as hard and fast as she could. The shorelurker remained visible, if only barely, as a red-tinged form speeding toward her just beneath the water’s surface.
Elliya’s breath was ragged as she clawed her way onto the riverbank, heaved herself out of the water, and crawled forward.
I will not die here. This is not my fate.
There was a splash behind her. Heartbeat becoming thunder in her ears, she grabbed the first thing her groping hands could find—a fist-sized rock—and rolled onto her backside to face her attacker.
The shorelurker dug its legs into the sand and launched itself at her, water flying off its body in a fine mist.
A dark figure plummeted from the sky, landing directly atop the shorelurker and slamming the creature onto the ground with a wet crunch.
Elliya’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes rounded farther as her mind struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. Her dragon stood before her in his human shape, one foot planted on the shorelurker’s tail, pinning the beast to the ground. His wings were spread wide, his pale hair hanging about his face, and fire glowed in his muscular chest, but it was the light of his blue eyes that commanded Elliya’s attention.
The shorelurker’s chitters and shrieks seemed distant and unimportant now.
The dragon bent down and jabbed a clawed hand under the shorelurker’s carapace. He yanked upward, still holding the tail down with his foot. The action seemed to require little effort on his part, and the cracking, squelching sounds of the creature being torn apart were thankfully brief.
Snarling, the dragon straightened and tossed the bloody carapace aside. His eyes, so intense, so ancient, had not left Elliya. Under the light of the Blood Moon, his scales were rose gold, so much softer in color than the ember orange illuminating his chest. Standing over her like this, his muscles taut and wings spread, he was intimidating, majestic…arousing.
Elliya’s eyes dipped to the next most obvious focal point—his loins. His cock was erect, its ridges glistening in the moonlight, and its head was straining toward her. The memory of its feel, of that fullness, flashed through her mind, flooding her veins with a heat to rival his. The ache between her legs pulsed, and she clamped her thighs together.
The dragon’s nostril’s flared, his tongue flicked out, and a low growl sounded in his chest. He closed the distance between them in a single stride. The heat radiating from him sent an anticipatory shiver through Elliya. He’d only mated her once, and she wanted more, more, more.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth when he loomed over her. Hunger gleamed in his eyes. Her skin tingled, ready for his touch, ready for him.
He bent down and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest with one arm behind her back and the other under her knees.
For a few moments, Elliya couldn’t think past he
r confusion. This was touching, yes, but not the sort she craved—not the sort he needed. Though she did not even know his name—or whether he had one to begin with—she knew by his fiery heat, his throbbing shaft, and the tension in his muscles that her dragon needed release.
She longed to give him that release, it wasn’t merely because of the mating bond that had woven itself into her heart, driving her toward him, urging her to fulfill his every need. She wanted to pleasure him, wanted to run her hands over his scaled flesh, to taste him with her tongue. And she wanted to be pleasured by him in return.
He carried her to the river, his steps hurried, heavy, and a little unsteady. Without a word, he plunged into the water until Elliya was submerged up to her neck. The current swept away the dirt and sweat from her skin and clothing.
“Thank you,” she said as he walked ashore.
The dragon growled and shook himself, snapping his wings out to shed the water from them.
Elliya settled her hand over his chest. Heat radiated into her palm, and she felt the steady, strong beating of his heart. His hold on her tightened, but it wasn’t painful—it was safe, secure, and just a little possessive.
“Dragon, you do not need to—”
Be so stubborn, she’d meant to say, but her words were cut off by a startled cry when he leapt off the ground and flapped his wings, forcing them high into the air.
Elliya’s stomach lurched and twisted into knots. She threw her arms around her dragon’s neck and clung as tight as she could, trying to look anywhere but at the ground, which was increasingly farther away with each pump of his leathery wings. Her stomach fell with every dip as he flew higher and higher.
Unwilling to see just how much empty air was beneath them, Elliya buried her face against his neck. His scent—earth and smoke mixed with something exotic—filled her senses. The dragon’s chest rumbled, and his hands flexed, holding her infinitesimally closer.
Despite her fear, despite her stomach wishing to revolt with every unsteady drop, Elliya smiled.
To Tame a Dragon (Venys Needs Men) Page 5