Sword of the King

by Megan Derr

  *~*~*

  The sound of his phone ringing woke Raphael, and he lunged for it, recognizing Leo's ringtone. He swore loudly as his wounds pulled, falling back down against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The phone rang again and he turned his head to glare at it before stretching until he could just barely reach it. Hitting the receive button, he brought it to his ear and said, "Good morning, Leo."

  "I've been delayed by a meeting and won't be there until around noon. Anything to report?"

  "No, it's been quiet since the attack last night. I've secured Cam, and we're going to stay inside."

  "I think you need to strongly consider moving back into the city."

  Rafael made a face. His brother was a fucking idiot if he thought an urban environment was any safer for Cam. So many people, so much distraction, would work against training an unknown dragon. Rafael didn't bother arguing, just said, "We can work out the details when you get here. The grocer is coming today, is there anything special I should have him bring to fix for you?"

  "That roasted chicken of yours, and apple pie," Leo said, and hung up. Rafael felt as though he'd inhaled nails. That had been one of Marianne's favorite meals.

  Throwing his phone on the bed, Rafael looked around. Where in the world Conway had gone? Rafael might not be up for much action until his wounds from the night before healed, but he was certainly capable of coaxing Conway into a morning blowjob.

  Heaving a sigh, he pushed off the blankets and carefully climbed out of bed. Pulling out jeans, underwear and socks from his dresser, he shuffled to his closet to pick out a shirt. He was just starting to do battle with the jeans when Conway burst into the room, happy as a kid on Christmas. Not that Rafael had seen any of those, but the analogy seemed to fit.

  "Morning, Raf," Conway said, pushing up against Rafael until he bumped into the wall with a soft oof. He'd barely opened his mouth to reply when Conway kissed him. "Raf okay?"

  "More or less," Rafael replied. He put his hands on Conway's shoulders and urged him down. "I'll be better in a few minutes, after you've sucked me off."

  Conway laughed and obediently dropped to his knees, tugging off the underwear Rafael had just pulled on and swallowing his cock without hesitation. Rafael groaned, head falling back to thump against the wall. He had a feeling he'd be popping painkillers all day and just didn't care.

  He came far too quickly, and wished they had time to draw it out and play in the bedroom for hours. Dragging Conway up, Rafael kissed him deeply, humming at the taste of himself in Conway's mouth, along with hints of bacon. "Mmm, somebody made you breakfast."

  "Blaze cook," Conway announced, then kissed him again.

  Rafael fumbled to get Conway's jeans open, then pulled out his cock and started to jack him off, swallowing every noise Conway fed him. When Conway finally came with a full body shudder, Rafael wished all over again that they could stay in bed all day.

  Conway pulled back enough to draw up Rafael's hand and slowly licked it clean. When he was done, he kissed Rafael hard, then asked, "Raf hungry?"

  "Starving. Help me get dressed."

  "Yes, Raf," Conway replied, beaming the entire time, for once not angry and depressed as he helped Rafael clean up and get dressed. It was a nice change from every other time Conway had helped him dress after Leo's beatings had left Rafael unable to dress himself.

  When he was finally ready, and had double-checked his wounds to be certain the bandages were still in place, Rafael gave Conway a last kiss and ushered him out of the room.

  It smelled like breakfast was still available, and Rafael headed towards the kitchen, eager to eat while he could; he sensed that by the time Leo left that evening he would not be capable of moving.

  Shoving the unhappy thoughts aside, he focused on the smile that Conway threw over his shoulder, and the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down the hall.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "Dragon, if you don't put that sausage down right now, I will not feed you again until dinner," Blaze threatened. Erie growled at him and attempted to look innocent and starving to death. "You're not fooling anyone. Finish your toast—don't whine at me, finish your toast. And you!" He jabbed his spatula in Nev's direction. "Don't think I don't know how many pieces of bacon are supposed to be on that platter. Honestly, you lizards are worse than children. Eat the food on your plate, and stop stealing food meant for other people."

  Blaze glared at them until they obeyed, absently wondering where Conway had gone. A shame he'd wandered off; he was older than the other dragons, calmer and more contained, so the others tended to behave around him.

  After one last warning look, Blaze turned back to the stove to finish with the second round of scrambled eggs. He was pretty certain he'd heard Ken stirring, and given that Leo would be arriving at some point, he was sure Raf and Amr would appear shortly as well.

  He flushed as he thought about what Ken had told him the previous night, about it being common in the clans ... Fuck, he couldn't even think about it without getting hard. Blaze drew in deep breaths and let them out slowly. He thought about Leo's stupid, ugly face and the five hundred different ways Rust was going to kill him when he learned about Blaze's backstabbing.

  Yeah, nothing killed a hard-on quite like death threats. Turning off the stove, Blaze picked up the pan of scrambled eggs and turned to carry it to the bar.

  Rafael walked in and Blaze stopped in his tracks. Fucking hell, no one should be allowed to be that good looking, especially first thing in the morning. Blaze shook himself and set the pan on the counter and dished the eggs out onto waiting plates.

  "Good morning," Rafael said, the words overtaken by a yawn. "Is there coffee?"

  "Yes, but it's questionable at best," Blaze warned.

  Rafael smiled at him. "I'm sure it's fine. Thank you for taking care of breakfast." He snagged a piece of bacon on his way to the coffee machine, making approving noises that did nothing whatsoever to cool Blaze down.

  Erie rumbled in amusement, and Blaze shot him a dirty look. "You wanna be locked outside all day, dragon? Cause that can be arranged."

  "Blaze mean," Erie complained.

  "Well, you're a brat," Blaze shot back.

  "Hmph."

  Fighting a smile, Blaze snagged his own plate and finally sat down to eat. "So what were you and Amr doing outside all night?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

  "What? Oh. Amr burned the bodies and told me more about the clans. When we came in you two were passed out on the couch."

  Blaze laughed. "Yeah, I guess we were both more tired than we realized. Ken never should have been up and about, but that idiot quite literally cannot hold still to save his own life. I woke up at ass crack o'clock and put him to bed, then caught a couple of hours myself before it was time to get up." He yawned.

  Rafael chuckled, and brought the coffee pot over to refill Blaze's mug. "Sounds like we're all going to be crashing early tonight." He picked up his fork and began eating.

  Leaving him to it, Blaze made quick work of his own food, suddenly feeling twitchy and restless for no good reason. He drained his coffee and started gathering up dirty dishes, piling everything up by the sink.

  "I'm fine!" he heard Ken snarl, and turned to watch a too-pale Ken walk into the kitchen and slide into Blaze's vacated seat. He grimaced, one hand reaching for his side before he stopped the motion and let the hand fall.

  Amr walked in behind him, scowling. "You're white as a sheet."

  "My sheets are navy blue," Ken snapped, then looked at Blaze. "Is there coffee?" He didn't wait for an answer when he saw the coffee pot, just grabbed Blaze's empty mug and stood up.

  At least, he tried to stand. "Sit. Down." Amr pushed him back down into his seat and took the mug away. He handed it to Blaze, and then grabbed a clean one. He poured coffee and took the mug back to Ken, who glared at it as though the mug was filled with poison.

  "I'm not an invalid," Ken said, refusing to take the mug. "Even if I was, I wouldn't need you to wait
on me."

  Amr set the mug on the counter and leaned in close. "Don't think, little Cross, that I won't give you a spanking if that's what it will take to make you behave."

  Ken went red, though Blaze honestly couldn't say whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "Fuck you," Ken snapped, and tried to stand again, glaring murder when Amr just shoved him back down into his seat. "Back the fuck off, Mordred."

  "The name is Amr. Drink your coffee and stop moving around so much."

  Ignoring him, Ken turned away. He smiled at Nev, who rumbled inquisitively. "Ken okay?"

  "I'm fine, just a little sore," Ken replied. "I'm sure I'll feel better than ever by tonight."

  Amr rolled his eyes, and Blaze turned back to the sink before Ken saw him trying not to laugh. He caught Rafael's eye, shared a smirk of amusement, and started to work on the dirty dishes.

  He looked up as movement entered his periphery. "I can do the dishes," Rafael said. "You made breakfast. Anyway, I want to be on the opposite end of the kitchen when those two start killing each other again."

  Blaze snorted. "Then make decent coffee, cause I could use more."

  Rafael laughed. "Your coffee was fine." He lingered a moment, smiling before he walked away. Blaze stole a glance, then made himself focus on the dishes before he managed to break a dish or cut his finger off .

  "So what time is your brother arriving?" Amr asked.

  "He called me a little while ago to tell me he had some meeting, and wouldn't be here until noon. Ah, that reminds me." Rafael set the coffee to brew, then went to the fridge and pulled down what looked like a list. "I'm calling in a grocery order soon, so if there's anything you want write it down. I'll call in about an hour, and the groceries will be delivered around eleven. Is Cam up yet?"

  Conway looked up from his plate, swallowing a last bite of bacon. "Cam in shower, down soon."

  Rafael nodded and set the list down on the counter, then helped Blaze clean up. Blaze was just loading the last of the dishes in the dishwasher when Cam walked in. He smiled brightly. "Good morning, is there any food—"

  He stopped, and gave an honest to god dragon growl, his gold eyes turning brilliant amber. Blaze heard a crash and saw that Amr had dropped his coffee. He stared at Cam, and Blaze saw that his black eyes had turned dragon amber.

  "What the hell?" Blaze asked.

  Rafael shook his head. They all watched as Cam approached Amr and rested his head against Amr's chest. At the bar, Ken's mouth dropped open. The other dragons shifted, growling as they padded around the bar and filled the suddenly too small kitchen.

  Amr rested his hand on the back of Cam's neck, speaking in a language that Blaze didn't understand. Judging from the look on Ken's face, he did, and didn't like a single word of what he was hearing.

  "I thought Amr couldn't have a dragon," Rafael said. "Why has—" He broke off as Cam suddenly shifted. Blaze had to wedge himself back against the counter to make room for the additional dragon.

  Cam was beautiful as a dragon, perhaps twenty or so pounds heavier than Nev. His scales gleamed with a brilliant gold sheen, like someone had added a layer of translucent gold paint over steel scales. He growled, and slowly turned to the other dragons, who all hugged the floor in submission.

  The dragon turned his gaze to Blaze, and Blaze fought a sudden urge to kneel. "What the fuck?" he demanded, looking toward Amr—and once more was struck by the same powerful urge. "What's going on?"

  "The Holy Pendragon has just been claimed by a goddamn Mordred," Ken said, looking as though he wanted to hit something. Knowing Ken, he just might. "How the fuck is that even possible? You're a Mordred! You can't claim a dragon! You definitely can't claim a Holy Pendragon!"

  Amr and Cam turned to look at Ken, but he only scowled. "What? It's true. Fuck you both for breaking the rules." He crossed his arms over his chest and seemed to dare them to argue with him. "What?" he demanded again when they continued to stare at him.

  Amr walked over, caught the fist Ken threw at him, and stepped in close enough that Ken was pinned against the bar. He grabbed Ken's chin and tilted his face up. "Obey me."

  "Blow me."

  Chuckling softly, Amr let him go. "How intriguing, the little Cross is immune to the power of the Pendragon. You bear Lancelot's Blessing."

  Ken's eyes widened.

  Blaze heaved an aggravated sigh. "I never thought I'd say this, but I really fucking miss how much easier my life was just a few days ago. What the hell is the power of the Pendragon?" Amr turned to face him, those gold eyes catching his, and Blaze thought maybe he knew. "It's that weird urge to do whatever you say whenever you look at me, isn't it?"

  "Yes," Amr said, reaching down to pet Cam as he rubbed against Amr's legs. He glanced at Rafael in question, but Rafael shook his head.

  "I seem to be the only one who feels it, beside the dragons," Blaze said, irritated. Yes, he was just a pit fighter, nothing special. Nothing like the rest of them. But did they need to rub it in his face?

  Amr's mouth quirked in amusement. Wading through the dragons, he reached up with one hand to press two fingertips to Blaze's forehead. He spoke in that odd language again, and Blaze twitched back with a grunt as simultaneous feelings of hot and cold shot through him. "There, you shouldn't have any problems now. I think with time you may have overcome the compulsion on your own."

  Blaze shook his head. "So why the hell do you have Cam? I thought you Mordred couldn't have dragons. And you have dragon eyes. I've never heard of fighters—knights—whatever—with dragon eyes."

  "They do with Pendragons," Ken said sourly, before Amr could reply. "Pendragons and their owners—their princes—can communicate telepathically. And if you thought he was a cocky son of a bitch before, there will be no living with him now." He glared back when Amr shot him a look.

  Rafael petted Conway as he pushed through the crowd to stand with Amr. "I felt that ... dominance when we first met Cam. Conway called him a 'master dragon', but I barely feel it now. I think in a few days, or possibly just a few hours, I won't feel it at all."

  "You've claimed your dragon," Amr explained. "You're a born leader, you know you are; that you've endured as much as you have for the sake of your people–your dragons, rather–proves that. You are coming into your own, a ruler in your own right."

  Ken snorted over his coffee cup. "So now we have King Arthur and Queen Guinevere here in the kitchen?"

  Blaze's gut twisted. Flippant or not, the words seemed to ring true. Both Amr and Rafael were tall and classy, with that air of power that someone like him would never possess. They contrasted beautifully—Rafael all light and gold, Amr dark and shadowy. They looked stunning together. If they started a syndicate, or tried to destroy the syndicates and do something new, they could and would.

  He was a fool to think someone like Rafael would ever look at him that way, even if there had been that one weird moment in the kitchen. It sounded cool to say 'fire and ice' but that didn't mean the two actually mingled.

  Tucking the hurt away, because it was stupid to feel anything after only a couple of days anyway, Blaze tried to put his mind on business. "So what the hell do we do now? I know that if Rust finds out that his prize dragon just got claimed, and by someone who shouldn't be involved at all, he'll go ballistic. I can't imagine Leo taking the news any better."

  "Keeping Amr out of his sight is a good start," Rafael said. "We'll just have to muscle through Leo's visit, wait until Leo is gone, and then get the hell out of here. No matter what, we can't stay here any longer. I'm going to call in this grocery list, add some supplies we can take with us." He slipped out of the kitchen to make the call.

  Blaze stroked Erie's head, then pushed away from the counter. "I'm going to go for a walk. Can I leave you two unsupervised? Cause I think we have enough problems without your clan feud or whatever."

  "Oh, we'll be fine," Amr said, shooting Ken a look that Ken returned with full hostility. "We have things to discuss."

  "Have fun, don't bre
ak anything," Blaze said, wondering when the fuck he'd become house mother—and when he was going to get paid for it. That reminded him that he should pull out as much money as he could from his account, because Rust wouldn't waste time cutting off all of Blaze's funds the minute he found out about Blaze's betrayal.

  Blaze put the matter aside for the moment and left the house with Erie at his heels. He probably should have brought a jacket, but the chill was mild, more pleasant than not, and walking would warm him quickly.

  Erie prowled around the property as they walked, getting into and investigating everything, and growling as they passed through the place where Ken had come close to dying—closer than he probably realized.

  When they got closer to the lake, Blaze walked along the bank, just out of range of the water. Well, he stayed out of range; Erie of course went straight for it and immediately began to splash about. "Dragon, if you get me wet I will destroy you."

  Making clicking-chirping sounds of laughter, Erie paused in splashing and turned, tensed—

  "Don't even!" Blaze backed up a step, but it was too late, and he went down with squawk of protest as Erie tackled him. "Get off me, dragon!"

  Instead, Erie shifted, and Blaze decided that was an acceptable compromise. He ran his hands down Erie's body, tugging him close, and sighed softly as Erie took his mouth in a hungry kiss, leaving his lips bruised and sore. "Good dragon?"

  "Brat dragon," Blaze replied, laughing when that got him a bite to his shoulder that would definitely leave a mark. "Stop putting holes in my clothes, dragon."

  Growling in defiance, Erie made short work of getting Blaze's shirt off—then threw it into the lake with a smirk. "Hey!" Blaze said. "If I have to walk back to that house naked, dragon, I will murder—mmph—" He struggled briefly against the hands that pinned his wrists to the sand, but they both knew it was a token effort. "Seriously, dragon. Don't destroy my pants, too."

  "Yes, Blaze," Erie said, clearly more interested in seeing how many bruises and scratches he could get away with. Every time Blaze started to yell at him about one, Erie's rough tongue was there, soothing the sting in the most evil of ways. Blaze writhed and jerked and tugged in his hold, but he knew he wasn't going anywhere until Erie was done, or he made it a serious order. "Stop torturing me, dragon."