A Lair So Primal (The Last Dragorai Book 3)

by Zoey Ellis

  Elora slowed, her concerns about the alpha deepening into a new consideration. “You think he will punish me?”

  Nureen was quiet for a moment. She tucked her coily hair into her hat and then linked her arm with Elora’s, pulling her forward. “I don’t know. I don’t mean to worry you,” she added quickly, “but it’s strange to me that after all this time he wants you transferred to his lair. It’s been months since you crossed his land.”

  Elora chewed her lip as she thought. “But that’s just their nature, isn’t it? They possessively collect and hoard things?”

  “I heard that too.” Nureen grinned, reaching up to catch strands of Elora’s hair that was whipping in the breeze. “Maybe he thinks you’re a treasure with all this golden hair.”

  Elora snorted at the idea. “Do you think Master Nyro collects kon’aya?” she said, after a moment’s thought. “Or used to, before I’mya?”

  Nureen shot her a look. “You noticed that too?”

  Staff from the different brothers’ lairs had gathered around the valley where I’mya’s ordination took place. They’d all been grouped together and one of the most obvious differences between Nyro’s staff and his brothers’ was the size of the staff—Nyro’s was drastically larger.

  Before Elora could respond, a piercing shriek tore through the valley, and heavy, rhythmic whipping sounded overhead. Nureen gripped onto Elora as a huge, dark figure soared above them.

  It was one of the brothers’ dragons. Gleaming jet black scales, glinted in the bright, crisp morning light. The creature was a wondrous sight to behold. Cries of surprise and delight rang out from the stream of servants in front of them as the creature soared above, but as it rounded, heading back toward them, it angled itself lower.

  A a man stood on the dragon’s back. Enormous with rippling muscles, he stood like rock, feet wide and his hands clenched into fists. As the dragon angled downward, it became clear that the alpha’s hard glare was aimed directly at Elora.

  Her breath left her and she froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

  “That’s him,” Nureen gasped. “The scary one.”

  The dragon swept by so close, Elora could have reached out and touched him, but he whipped by too quickly, before ascending back up into the sky. Elora, Nureen, and the rest of the staff, turned to watch the pair as they soared away, this time continuing on into the distance.

  A chorus of cheers, clapping, shouting, and waving rose from the servants around them, their excitement heightened.

  Elora took a deep breath, and Nureen let out a shaky laugh and she released her grip on Elora’s arm.

  “As I said,” Nureen said, looking pointedly at Elora, “I don’t think he will ignore you.”

  Elora trudged along the valley in the cool evening air, this time with three stewards surrounding her, and wishing she could have stayed with her friends.

  It had surprised her that they’d all gathered to say good-bye, even people she hadn’t told. Nureen had looked at her guiltily. “Everyone wanted the chance to say good-bye,” she explained. “You probably don’t realize, but you made a big impact on many of us.”

  Elora couldn’t help but grin at her. She hadn’t thought about making a big fuss, but she was also glad she was able to say good-bye to them. I’mya was away with Nyro, but they’d shared a tearful farewell before her ordination.

  Amazingly, some of her closest friends had brought presents for her to take with her. I’mya gifted her a handmade Dao board. Syb had given her one of her beautiful paintings, and Tiiu a small figurine with the circular symbol of the Order of the Seven Goddesses.

  “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your reluctance to praise the Seven, Elora,” Tiiu said quietly as she pressed the roughened gold gift into Elora’s palm.

  Elora forced herself not to flinch. Tiiu was initially suspicious of Elora for not being as enthusiastic about the Seven Goddesses as everyone else, especially considering the dragorai were one of the Seven’s creations, but Tiiu’s doubts lessened when she saw how supportive Elora was of her faith. She even once called her “the heart of lair,” which had pleased Elora immensely. “This figurine has kept me safe. I pray it will protect you in your new home.”

  Elora smiled and squeezed her hand in gratitude. “Thank you.”

  She said good-bye to each of them until only Nureen remained, both of them tearful.

  “Look after everyone, will you?” Elora said, her voice hoarse.

  Nureen snorted. “That’s your job.” Her smile faded. “Elora, be careful over there.”

  “I’ll try,” Elora said. She planned to avoid the alpha whenever she could. “The staff will probably give me advice.”

  Nureen nodded. “Just remember, sometimes you have to be selfish and look after yourself first.”

  Elora frowned. “That doesn’t seem like the right thing to do.”

  “Maybe not all the time, but sometimes it’s the only way to protect yourself.” Nureen held out a book. “Here.”

  “What’s this?” The book looked brand new, no wrinkled pages and no tears on the fabric cover. It also had no title.

  “Something for when you’re bored over there,” Nureen said, pushing it into her hands. “Read it when you get there.”

  While Elora was still learning to read, Nureen was capable of reading the most advanced books in the library. She’d been helping to teach some of the servants, including Elora and I’mya. Nureen had no doubt given her something that would help her to continue practicing. Elora grinned, pulling her into a tight, long hug. “Thank you. I’m going to miss you so much, Nureen.”

  Dayatha appeared behind her and tipped her head to Elora. “It is time to go.”

  Elora released her friend, biting her lip so she didn’t cry. Taking one last glance around her, she followed the steward along the corridor and down through sloping, twisting corridors until they reached a small area lit only with lamps. This was where she and the other girls had woken up after Dayatha had cast magic on them, rendering them all unconscious prior to entering the lair.

  Dayatha stopped and turned to her.

  “You have to make me unconscious again?” Elora asked.

  “Yes.”

  Elora cleared her throat and nerves sprung up in her stomach. She gripped her carrysack until her hand hurt. “I’m ready.”

  Dayatha hesitated. “We’ll all miss you, Elora, including the stewards. But… sometimes events of the past can help to create the life we want.”

  “I would have preferred a life here—in this lair,” Elora said quietly.

  Dayatha smiled at her. “Maybe this is not where you are needed most.”

  Elora frowned. She hadn’t thought about it like that.

  Dayatha squared her shoulders. “Ready?” When Elora nodded, she began murmuring in the strange, old language of the dragorai, and everything faded to black.

  She’d woken up out in the valley without her friends and without Dayatha. Elora took a breath, forcing her negative thoughts away. This would be a good, fresh start. The only thing that unnerved her was the way one of the brothers had behaved earlier, almost attacking her on the back of his dragon. She couldn’t be sure it was Zendyor, though he looked terrifying enough, and there was no reason for any other brother to single her out with a glare like that. She hoped it wasn’t him, but even if it was, she would have to convince him that she only wanted to live peacefully in his lair.

  Night came gradually, turning the sky into a gorgeous indigo that stretched ahead over the mountain range. It was a fascinating sight.

  When Elora was out in the realm, trying to dodge soldiers and the extremely dangerous magical debris called ember, which killed so many innocent people, there was never any chance to look at the sky. And even in the few peaceful moments she had, the sky was always filled with ash and grey clouds because of the constant magical bombs—never anything interesting or beautiful. But here among the dragorais’ mountain ranges, the sky was one of the most beautiful things she�
��d ever seen. It had depth and a vastness that made her feel small and insignificant as well as grateful to witness something so incredible.

  As the night wore on, Elora began to slow and stumble as her legs tired, but the stewards accompanying her continued their pace.

  “Are we not going to have a break?” Elora asked them. It felt like she’d been walking forever.

  “No,” one of them replied. “We have to pass you over at daybreak and we cannot be late.”

  “We’re walking until daybreak?” Elora exclaimed. “I can’t do that. I’ll collapse before then.”

  The steward in front of her glanced back. “How did you do it before? These territories are not small. You must have been practically running the whole time to get across without Zendyor capturing you.”

  At that, Elora quietened. Crossing Zendyor’s land hadn’t been an easy task. In fact, it almost killed her. But she’d relied on the same bold energy and effort it had taken to live in the North Cities, and she’d been motivated to escape it. When Elora crossed Zendyor’s range, she had been running for her life, and if she missed the appointment time to enter Master Nyro’s lair, she never would have been safe. It was a sacrifice she had to make, but it wasn’t an easy one to do. Her whole body ached for days. She certainly never got time to admire the sky.

  “I forced myself across,” she murmured back at the steward.

  The steward grunted, turning back to face front. “And now is the same thing.”

  They walked through the night until Elora could barely stand, and when she couldn’t take another step, one of the stewards handed her a vial with an amber-colored potion inside, which revitalized her.

  At daybreak, they approached a valley where two other grey-robed stewards stood waiting. They were dressed identically to the stewards who’d escorted her, though one of them had a staff.

  The stewards inclined their heads at each other respectfully and Elora was beckoned over to the other group. Once she was with them, both groups of stewards began their separate journeys, walking in opposite directions.

  The new stewards set a faster pace than the old ones, and this time there was no potion from Dayatha to help her. Elora became so exhausted, she had to lean on the steward with the staff. Thankfully, they arrived at the new lair just as dusk descended over the range.

  Zendyor’s mountain looked equally huge as Master Nyro’s, but they stopped a few yards away from it. When one of the stewards began casting, Elora took a deep breath and braced herself for the darkness.

  When her consciousness ebbed back, she stood in the center of a cavern-like room lit with tall flame-lamps, their harsh light bouncing around the jagged walls of the space.

  The two stewards who’d escorted her stood on either side of her against the walls, their hoods down and their heads bowed. The one holding the staff was an older male who had a small grey-streaked beard, and the other was an older female with thick, cinnamon-colored hair that fell over her face, but it was difficult to see anything more than that.

  The way they stood was strange. They didn’t look at her and seemed to be waiting for something—almost as though they were on guard. Before she could say anything, the door on the other side of the room opened, and an enormous man stepped in.

  It was him—the man who’d been on the back of the dragon. He strode toward her, that same hard glare locked onto her, but now she could see it was fury in his eyes.

  And everything within her began to tremble.

  2

  As the man reached the center of the room, the power of his presence made everything else fade away. He looked like a well-kept beast. Huge and thick, he towered over everyone in the room, his muscled arms rippling as he flexed them in agitation. He was close enough that she could see him more clearly. But she wished she wasn’t. His full head of dark blond hair was rugged and rough, as though the wind had whipped it up into a frenzy just before he stepped into the room. The flickering light cut harsh shadows over his face, intermittently swamping his face, but one thing was clear; he was furious. His anger charged the room, and his tense body made her feel as though he was ready to pounce at any moment, but it was his expression that terrified her—he looked as though her appearance offended him.

  Elora’s mouth was suddenly dry and she kept herself as still as she could, barely even breathing.

  “kosh don sha hipik.” Deep and gritty, his voice rumbled straight through her chest.

  Elora frowned, unsure how to respond. It should be obvious she didn’t know or understand his language. Thankfully, the female steward spoke up, but she didn’t translate—she responded to him in his language.

  The alpha turned his head toward the steward, though his eyes remained on Elora, but whatever the steward said seemed to agitate him more. He paced back and forth, his eyes locked onto hers until he spoke again.

  “You are the one who knew the rules of the Forbidden Mountains and still chose to breach my territory.”

  Surprised that he could speak the common language of the North, Elora inhaled a sharp breath. I’mya had said that Nyro refused to speak any of the common languages, although that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Before she could gather her thoughts to respond, the beast spoke again.

  “You sought to avoid punishment by hiding in my brother’s lair,” he snarled. “You choose to show the utmost disrespect to the dragorai! Explain yourself.”

  Elora was unable to drag her eyes from him, especially while he was pacing. Still, she tried to compose herself. “It wasn’t my intention to be disrespectful, Master.” She hated that her voice was thin and small. “I was eager to meet with the stewards of Master Nyro’s lair, and I didn’t think it would be a problem to—”

  Zendyor’s snarl interrupted her. “You did not think you would get caught!”

  Elora’s fear seized her and her knees almost gave way. “That is true,” she admitted. “I decided to risk it.”

  The beast slowed to a stop, turning to face her, his disbelief heavy in both voice and expression. “You decided to risk it?”

  Elora simply stared at him; there was nothing she could say.

  “Do you know what we, the dragorai, do to trespassers? Do you know the punishment?”

  “I had to get away from the war,” Elora said, trying to explain herself calmly, a flash of irritation bursting in her chest.

  “Answer me!”

  Elora swallowed, battling equal amounts of fear and annoyance. “I… I’ve heard different things. I don’t know what to believe.”

  “You can believe that we do not treat criminals well,” Zendyor growled.

  Elora blinked. “Criminal? No, I-I’m not….”

  “No?” The alpha shot forward in long powerful strides, so quick she barely had time to flinch before his thick hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked her head back until she stared directly up at him.

  Elora let out a whimper, her body stiff with shock, drowning in the terror filling her veins. His grip was so strong, and she was small and frail next to him. He could snap her in half with one thick finger. She pushed away the prickly fear that clawed down her throat, warning her to run.

  “You are not what?” he snapped.

  For a moment Elora had no words. Up close, he was vastly more handsome than she had first glimpsed from so far away. His features were strong with high cheekbones, thick brows, and a full wide mouth. But the most startling thing about him were his eyes—pure, deep blue, as dark and beautiful as the night sky. And the fury in them was tinged with an intense disdain yet sharp curiosity.

  A distinctive earthy, smoky scent surrounded him, rich and dark and ladened with a potent masculinity that could only be described as divinely and deliciously alpha. It enveloped her, alerting her body that she was in the presence of not just any alpha, but a dragorai-alpha—an almost immortal being favored by the Goddesses. They were unlike any other people or creatures to ever exist. Elora bit her lip as her nipples hardened, and the trembling energy in her limbs spiraled
through her, rushing straight to the tingle developing between her legs. His scent was highly appealing—beautiful, layered, and complex—as it would be to any omega; her body was bound to respond. It was the first time it had ever happened to her, but these were the times when it was frustrating to be an omega.

  Closing her eyes, she discarded all concerns about her reaction to him and focused on what it meant. This man wasn’t just an alpha, he was a divine being who had been alive for hundreds of years, and she was an insignificant mortal who had fallen foul of his laws and was easy prey he could kill instantly, if he chose. It was now clear to her that she hadn’t approached this situation appropriately at all.

  “I’m sorry, Master,” she whispered, opening her eyes again. “Please accept my apologies for my mistake—it wasn’t intended to insult you. I just… I was selfish. I do respect and honor you and your clan, and I will accept any punishment you deem appropriate.”

  The intensity of his anger dulled a little. His eyes roamed over her face, drifting down to her exposed neck before traveling back up to meet her gaze.

  “You were born in the war,” he said.

  Elora nodded, only able to move her head a minute amount.

  “The North Cities.”

  She nodded again. He seemed to prefer making statements rather than asking questions.

  “Then you are not unused to living in it.”

  Elora opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Was he planning on sending her back to the North Cities? Without her faction, it was a death sentence. Dejected, she closed her mouth and swallowed.

  The beast’s eyes snapped to her undulating throat. “You entered my brother’s lair for safety,” he stated, his eyes returning to hers.

  “That was one benefit, yes,” Elora breathed.

  “What was another?”

  “To have a home.”

  The beast didn’t respond to that. He glared down at her but his gaze wasn’t as intense as before. Elora couldn’t guess what he might be thinking but hoped he couldn’t smell the rising arousal beneath her furs. Another irritating omega problem.