A Lair So Primal (The Last Dragorai Book 3)

by Zoey Ellis

  When she woke again, he was smothering her with his body, dried blood flaking onto her face. She shifted underneath him, turning onto her side to try and ease out from under him, but the ache in her body was overwhelming. She lay there, catching her breath trying to ignore the acrid ripeness of their coupling that permeated the room.

  The beast’s arm twitched and when she turned to look at him, he was staring right back at her.

  Elora froze, a shock of fear gripping her lungs, but he didn’t have the fierce fury that had been in his eyes earlier. In fact, he looked different now that night had fallen and anger didn’t dominate his features. Indeed he was a hulking man, muscled and broad, but when he was relaxed, it was easier to see the subtleties of his features… the slight crook in his nose, the pride in the sternness of his lips, and the intelligence in his spectacular eyes—there was a man behind the beast.

  She gazed at him, entranced by the sight, and he watched her back intently.

  Without warning, the alpha rose from the bed, lifting her with him, and strode across the room. Elora clung onto him, unsure what he was going to do next. He fixed her so her legs wrapped around his waist again and she winced at the pain that rocked over her.

  Tucked into the side of the room was a large washroom with charcoal grey walls. The dragorai pressed something on the side of the wall, and the ceiling shifted causing a sleek wall of water to fall over a high ledge.

  The dragorai gathered up soap in the hand that wasn’t holding her close to him, then he walked straight under the stream. The warm water soaked them both, washing away the caked-on blood, sweat, and seed.

  Elora sighed at the feel of the warmth on her muscles but was surprised when the alpha began to lather the soap over her body. She tried to take the soap from him, but he wouldn’t allow it, pushing her hand away with a warning growl. She stared at him confused. Why would he wash her? It didn’t seem like the kind of thing a dragorai would do for a kon’aya. And then she remembered.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said tentatively.

  He didn’t even bother to look at her. “Too late.”

  Elora’s eyes widened, remembering he only gave her permission to speak on his knot. She scowled. “I-I was tired.”

  The dragorai snorted.

  “Please, I have a question about my… transgressions.”

  He said nothing while continuing to lather her right thigh.

  “You told me that I must pay off my debt,” Elora said, continuing anyway. “Does that mean I am part of your lair until that debt is paid?”

  He didn’t reply, focusing on rubbing the soap over her leg, cleaning away the remnants of their sex.

  Elora offered a smile. “Please. I need to know what my position is here.”

  The dragorai didn’t answer. He washed her other leg, her torso, her arms, and the round cheeks of her ass.

  “All I’m asking for is a role,” she said quietly as he washed her feet. “A position among your lair staff.”

  The dragorai didn’t even bother to look at her. After he washed her, he placed her down on her feet, pausing when he realized she was wincing from the pain between her legs. He headed back over to the ledge where the soap was kept and picked up a different one and then carefully washed between her legs. Embarrassment threaded through Elora that he was doing such a thing, but he refused to allow her the soap, gripping her wrists to keep her hands out of the way.

  Incredibly enough, he was careful. It must have been a potion-made soap because as he lathered, the sharpness of the pain lessened.

  Elora sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

  He turned her back to him and began to lather her hair.

  “I don’t know if you think I’m not deserving of a position or not capable or trustworthy,” she said, “but I can do any position you see fit. I can help in the kitchens or I can help the stewards.” She shrugged. “You are already treating me like my role in the last lair. You can give me that role If you wish.”

  The dragorai’s hands froze on her scalp. “What role?”

  “kon’aya,” Elora said. “I can be your kon’aya here too.”

  Before she could even take another breath, her back slammed against the rough wall, his fingers digging into her jaw as he stepped in close, another face full of fury. “You were a kon’aya for my brother?”

  Elora wasn’t sure how to answer. This was certainly the beast again, but she couldn’t tell what he was angry about. “Yes,” she said, her voice trembling. “But—”

  He roared, the fierce sound echoing in the washroom and deafening her. “You told me that you were some kind of steward helper,” he bellowed. “Are you saying you fucked my brother?”

  “No!” Her voice sounded thin and quiet next to his. “I was recruited as a kon’aya but I never bed him.”

  “That is impossible,” he hollered. “Nyro fucks everything, and I assure you he would not have overlooked you.”

  Elora tried to shake her head but he held her jaw even tighter, tears stinging her eyes at his grip. The beast began speaking again, but he didn’t seem to have realized he slipped into his own language. She couldn’t understand him.

  Elora watched him closely, every contorted muscle in his face, every tensed muscle in his body, but this was also the man who had just carefully washed her.

  She lifted her hand and brought it to his face. The moment her fingers touched his cheek his words petered out into a long rumble in the back of his throat.

  “I arrived the same time as his mate. He didn’t want anyone else,” she explained.

  “But you wanted him. You just didn’t get the chance.”

  “No. It was a… a duty I would have fulfilled.”

  “Did he see you naked?” The dragorai’s eyes flashed. “His kon’aya are naked in his lair!”

  “No. I only ever met him once when he told me I was to come to your lair, and I was clothed at that time.”

  “But you wanted to fuck him.” His shoulders flexed and a strong growl returned. “You were willing to fuck him to stay in his lair.”

  Elora stroked her fingers down his cheek and then placed her whole palm on his face. Something changed in his eyes. Tension slowly seeped from his body, and his growl petered out completely.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, though he didn’t raise his voice. “You wanted to spend the rest of your life fucking him.”

  “No. I just wanted a safe home away from the war.”

  He watched her closely. “It is the reason you crossed my land.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you prefer his lair?”

  Elora held his gaze, knowing she couldn’t lie. “It was different.”

  His eyes darkened. Sliding her roughly up the wall, pushing her legs open with his knee. She gasped as he pressed his thickness into her, thrusting to the root and once again stretching her wide to the point of painful pleasure. He fucked her fast and hard against the wall, as though punishing her for her intentions at his brother’s lair. Hooking his arm under her knees he spread her as wide as he could, digging deep inside to claim the deepest depths of her.

  Elora panted, her breath huffing out with each merciless thrust. There was no doubt in her mind what this was—it permeated in his scent as soon as she said kon’aya; jealous, volatile possession. It didn’t make any sense to her logical mind—there was no reason for him to be threatened—but that uncontrollable nature in her indulged in his possession, urging him to take what was his and prove his ownership. Her hips thrust forward to meet his frenzied slams, but when she brushed a thumb over his nipple he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head as he battered her body to a swift and scorching climax, but he didn’t let her go or touch her to give her any further pleasure. And she understood. This wasn’t about her pleasure, it was a claim over her.

  When he finally knotted her, driving the enlarged base of his cock into her and locking them together, he stilled.

  “You said you made others happy in
my brother’s lair,” he thundered as she tried to catch her breath. “Was that with your kon?” He flicked his hips, agitating his knot inside her.

  “No!” Elora gasped, uncomfortable. “I just tried to be a good friend and make people feel….”

  “Make them feel what?” he bellowed.

  “Like they were not alone.” Her voice was trembling.

  The dragorai watched her closely, those stormy eyes flicking across her face. “Why?”

  Exhaustion was beginning to crept into Elora’s body but she needed to make him understand. “The war made us feel like we were.”

  “That is not the reason.”

  Elora swallowed. “It’s not the only reason,” she admitted. How did he know? “I wanted it to be a home too. For me and them.”

  That seemed to appease him. Pulling her off the wall, his arm keeping her close to him on his knot, the dragorai stepped back under the stream and finished washing her hair and then washed himself. Elora waited until he’d dried them both and carried her back into his chambers and to his bed.

  “Please would you consider a position for me—”

  The dragorai climbed on top of her, pressing his elbows on either side of her head as he loomed over her. “I will give you a position once you admit to me how you evaded detection on my range.”

  Elora squinted as she looked up at him. “Evaded detection?”

  “How did you do it?”

  Elora shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I just crossed through—”

  “Do not lie to me.” His nostrils flared. “No one has managed to cross my range undetected. No one. Tell me how you did it. Do you speak Thrakondarian? Did you use an incantation?”

  “No,” Elora breathed. “I don’t know any magic. I just kept moving and found shelter at night in some of the caves—”

  “You will remain indebted to me until you tell me how you did it,” he said harshly. “And you will not earn a position until your debt is paid.”

  Elora’s heart dropped. “Why would you do that?” she managed to whisper. “I have admitted my wrongdoing—I have no reason to lie.”

  “Maybe you intend to fool me again—have someone else invade my land—or maybe you’re planning an escape.”

  So that was it. He thought she’d fooled him, and of course he would hate that idea. This was about his pride and nothing more. The dragorai were known for their pride just as much as their arrogance, superior strength, territorial nature, and sexual appetite. They had very little weaknesses, so their pride and ego were considered justified by some. But he clearly didn’t realize that she would never willingly return to the war—no one would.

  This dragorai also seemed suspicious and highly offended by her, beyond the fact that she crossed his land, but she didn’t know why. And without knowing that, how was she to convince him?

  The dragorai lowered to nuzzle her neck, breathing her in again, and Elora sighed, enjoying his proximity and how she was caged in by his body. The contradictions of their interactions didn’t escape her—she took comfort in him and feared him, he terrorized her and healed her. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Mama had told her what it was like with an alpha, and this wasn’t it. This was dangerous and carnal and even perverse. The only explanation was that this man was a dragorai-alpha, a being from ancient times. He wasn’t supposed to be with her in this way—he was supposed to be with female dragorai. There were stories of mortal women going insane after being with a dragorai, and now she understood why.

  A new thought occurred to her. Where was Zendyor’s kon’ayas? He must have some in the lair somewhere. She needed to coexist here without him making her a shell of herself, but she needed friends to do that. Befriending his kon’ayas should help. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about all the people she’d lost when she was forced to come here. If she wasn’t careful she would lose herself too. But there was only so much she could withstand.

  So when Zendyor leisurely tongued her nipple and lowered to bury his head between her legs, she allowed herself to get lost in him. Just for now.

  5

  Zendyor lay Elora down gently on her bed, careful not to wake her.

  She let out a tiny moan at the sudden lack of heat from his body, but he knew she wouldn’t wake. It had been a week now. She always slept well after their intense couplings, and hadn’t woken any of the times he returned her to her bed.

  He lifted her left arm to examine it now that he had removed the bandages. It had healed well. He had inspected and checked Marahl’s potion and changed Elora’s bandages every morning to make sure. It had been foolish of him to damage her so badly. Granted she had refused to answer his question, but successful torture did not begin with the most severe punishment. Another result of his quick temper and one of the few he regretted.

  He covered her with blankets, ensuring to pile them up around her. Like most omegas, Elora preferred being completely surrounded and covered as she slept. He had known that about omegas but never thought much about it until she was in his bed, relishing his heat on top and around her. It was satisfying to be able to give it to her.

  He watched her for a moment, her face snuggling into the pillow. It should be against all natural laws that she was so beautiful. A criminal like her should not be blessed with such a face or stunning body, and certainly not a kon so delectable and snug that he had almost become obsessed with it. It infuriated him, and yet nothing could stop him from eagerly indulging in her. Perhaps this was her plan in the first place.

  He couldn’t make sense of the woman. If she used magic or if she spoke Thrakondarian, she hid it well. If she had some kind of special skill or ability, it was unnoticed by all the measures he’d put in place to protect his lair. He had no idea why he didn’t just torture it out of her instead questioning her. He would do it tomorrow. Yet… he’d said that yesterday and the two days before that.

  This omega had already made a fool of him by evading not only him but his dragon, Yorgynel, which Zendyor was also infuriated about. He couldn’t understand why his dragon—his dan askha—had tracked her but didn’t capture her or alert Zendyor that it was time to hunt. Of course, after experiencing Elora, he was glad he hadn’t, but it was a concern if his dragon was allowing people through his territory. Unfortunately, there was no clear way of finding out.

  Dragorai-dragons were wilder and more dangerous than any other dragon that had ever existed in the Twin Realms. And many thought that just because they were bonded to alphas they were able to have in-depth conversations with them. That wasn’t the case. Communication between alpha and dragon was very much in the form of bursts and hints of feelings that only appeared when either one was feeling strongly about something. The only other way to communicate and control his dragon was by using incantations in his native tongue, Thrakondarian—the language of magic. But that wasn’t something most dragorai-alpha preferred doing. Why be bonded to be such a fierce, beautifully wild creature and then try to tame him? It was idiotic. His dan askha allowed him to hone his instincts, which elevated him to one of the most notable dragorai in all the centuries that he had been alive. And his hunting skills were one of the reasons his clan, the Vattoro clan, was the last remaining dragorai.

  He looked around Elora’s room. Nothing looked different from when he was here yesterday, but his eyes rested on the book that her friend had given her. It was admirable that she wanted to learn to read, and even more thrilling that she was learning about him. His pride and suspicion battled about whether it was genuine interest or some kind of plot against him, but when he read through all of the stories, there was nothing of concern in them. In fact, he enjoyed the reminder of some of the things he’d done in his lifetime, even if not all of the stories were completely accurate. His past was a rich history—as it was for brothers and his kind. They had achieved and represented so much for the Twin Realms that their almost extinction was the highest of all insults which could ever have been inflicted on them.

  Tyomar a
lways argued that for new beings to exist the old ones had to die out. Zendyor didn’t give a fuck about that. They were dragorai—created by the Goddesses themselves. They were superior beings. No one, much less small and magic-less beings like the lesser-mortals, should be able to cause as much devastation as they did. And yet it had happened.

  With the war still raging between the northern king and the southern queen, they would have the chance to regain their status, especially with all the changes happening within their clan.

  They would not fail.

  Taking one last look at Elora, Zendyor exited the room quietly and made his way back through the corridors toward his chambers.

  When he arrived Marahl was waiting.

  “Her wounds are fully healed,” he told his steward.

  Marahl nodded. “She feels well.”

  “Anything to report?” he asked as he entered his chambers.

  “She went to one of the servants’ tasks rooms and tried to talk to her.”

  “Did that work?”

  “No,” Marahl said. “Everyone is too busy to stop and talk to her.” She hesitated. “But I wonder if you would be willing to allow someone relief to spend some time with her.”

  “No.”

  Marahl lifted her shoulders, grimacing. “I think she’s lonely. She had friends in Lord Nyro’s lair. She had activities and responsibilities. I fear that she will become very low in mood should she continue to be isolated.”

  “That is the point,” Zendyor said, sharpness in his tone. “I want to know what she did when she crossed my land.”

  “She still hasn’t mentioned anything to me,” Marahl said. “I have brought it up in many different ways. The crossing of your land is not something that is notable to her. She doesn’t even seem to remember much of it.”

  “She is lying,” Zendyor said, dropping down into a chair. “She has to be. It is impossible for anyone to cross that distance in the time that she did without detection. I want to know how she did it, and then I will decide what to do with her.”