Frost Fire
A Novel of the Dracol
By Michelle Howard
Published by MH Publications
Copyright © 2019 by Michelle Howard
License Notes
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This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of pure coincidence.
Chapter 1
“More, more!”
The urgent plea had Faris growling, his inner Dracol straining to fulfill the command. Beneath him, Rena writhed and rocked, her nails gouging his shoulders as she cried out. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, she was everything in her passion.
His heart hammered against his chest, his thighs burned and his muscles quivered as he powered into her wet heat. He wanted to go off but had to hold out. Rena was close. He recognized the signs.
“Let go, amans. I’ll always catch you,” he murmured urgently as sweat dripped into his eyes.
She bit her lip and her pretty eyelashes fluttered. Hints of pink flushed her face, while hair like an out of control blaze spread in an open fan across the white of his pillow. The delicious moans changed to pleas and finally she tipped over.
“Faris!” she screamed.
The scent of blood saturated the air as her nails broke flesh. Groaning under his breath, Faris continued to pump his way through her violent climax.
It was only as she whimpered and came down that he allowed himself to lose the last bit of his tightly fought control.
“I love you,” he roared as he jetted his release into her clenching warmth.
Every twitch and pulse had him groaning. His slick body dripped with their combined effort. The orgasm slowed though he continued to spurt. Faris planted his face against her shoulder, his hips on automation. The scent of sweat and sex filled his nostrils on each jagged inhale. He closed his eyes, focused completely on the sensations—the soft give of her body, the way Rena undulated beneath him while her core clenched on his cock with last minute greedy pulls.
Hair tickled his lips as he nuzzled the sweaty curve of her throat. Making love with Rena was like diving into his best dream. The whirlwind of being with her tended to wring him out and leave him in a blissful state. This time was no different.
“I can’t believe you love me.” She looped her arms about his neck
Faris cuddled Rena in his arms and pulled the fur blankets up to cover them. The heat from their frantic lovemaking was easing off and the sweat on their skin cooled. Despite them being a cold-based race, she would eventually chill and shiver. Always did and it humored him to no end.
“Of course I love you.” He nipped her ear and smiled as she scrunched her shoulder on a squeal.
It was such a feminine sound and at odds with what one expected from a weapons maker. Rena’s skill in that area was without compare. Those who already recognized her talent possessed the finest, deadliest weapons possible and every single one of them was crafted by her.
Rena pushed and twisted beneath the covers until she faced him. Her amber eyes brightened, the curve of her lips enchanting. She swiped at the waves of dark hair sticking to his cheeks. “So, liras, huh?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Liras.”
Life mates. They’d tentatively discussed it before. There was no greater commitment between two Dracol, but there was only Rena for Faris. No other female would do. She belonged to him, had since they shared their First fire together. He belonged to her as well. New to sex, they’d fumbled their way together, gaining skill as time went on.
Lust became like, like became love. Friendship blossomed and passion grew. They’d only ever known one another’s touch and he hoped that never changed. When he turned to dust on the wind, he wanted his body to have only enjoyed Rena’s caresses.
When Faris stood beside her he felt stronger, happier. No other could bring him from his dour moods as quickly as Rena with a smile or pinch to his ribcage. He knew without a shadow of doubt that he wanted to spend all of his years with her.
Instead of telling Rena of all the ways she made him better, Faris kissed her brow, her mouth. It started gently, a simple brush but as usual, he drowned in all that was Rena. Her scent, her touch, the soft sweep of her tongue in his mouth.
Slowly, Faris pulled back, her moan stirring his cock. He repeated the phrase that didn’t come close to covering the emotions swelling in his heart. “I love you.”
“You’re a charmer.” She snuggled close, kissed his chin and closed her eyes.
Faris ran his hand up her back. Growing drowsy after sex was another trait that amused him about her. She exerted so much energy during the day, a veritable bouncing fluff. Until they made love. Afterward, she was always drained while he tended to stay up well into the night watching over each breath she took.
“You didn’t answer.” Not that he doubted her response. Rena didn’t play those games.
“I love you, too,” she murmured. “I can’t wait to be yours.”
His heart thumped in relief. Faris shifted about in the big bed he’d built with her in mind and settled to stare at the curve of her jaw when it happened.
The world tilted and a sharp pain full of grief stabbed at his heart. Rena cried out as well, her eyes shooting wide open. “Faris!”
“I know.” He soothed as he leaped from the bed, shoving his legs into a pair of crumpled leathers he pulled from the floor. They’d both felt the emotional swell from the power source for all Dracols. The mantle only shifted that hard for one reason and one reason only.
Pale but steady, Rena dressed with quick, jerky motions. First her silver shirt with the sparkles along the hem. Next, shapely golden thighs and a curvy rear flashed in front of him, drawing his attention. Both vanished as she snagged her dark pants then jumped in place until they were snug about her slender waist.
Grabbing his silver fur-lined vest from the single chair in the room, he had a brief flash of exactly what they’d been doing in this chair earlier. He’d lavished attention on Rena’s breasts as she quivered on his lap. With his fingers between her slick thighs, he’d strummed her to orgasm time and again until she grew limp and begged for mercy. How’d they get from there to here?
Faris straightened after stepping into his boots. “Hurry, amans. I need to get to the throne room.”
Deep inside of him, waves of confusion and terror welled again, including his own. Faris gripped Rena’s hand after she got her boots on. The King of the Silver was dying and all males of their sect needed to be present for the passing.
It was their way. A new king would be selected when the old died. Only the strongest among them could harness the power living in the mantle.
***
Urgency drove Rena. Pulse pounding, she ran with Faris from his house into the bitter cold of night. Other males streamed from their homes, leaping down stairs and racing to the main house where King Tora lived at the center of their village.
Nerves beat a tattoo inside Rena. Part of it was her connection to the mantle. She pressed a hand to her chest, legs pumping to keep up as Faris flew up and down the walkways. Hair streamed into her face and
tears formed at the corners of her eyes from the cold air and pace he set, but she didn’t dare slow him down.
Faris hit the door at a run, his palm slapping the panel and it flew open. More Dracol males followed, jostling Rena as they vied to reach the throne room located at the rear of the house.
“Stay here.” Faris kissed her absently and left her with the few women leaning against the back wall.
Her attention caught on Faris’ body. The smooth play of muscle as he jerked the vest over his head and tossed it to the side. His long black braid slid over his back to dangle between his shoulder blades. Bare-chested, he joined row after row of males who all dropped to one knee, head bowed, facing the single jewel-encrusted chair at the front of the room.
Rena fought to control her rapid breathing. She’d never witnessed the passing of the mantle and terror gripped her in its piercing clutches. King Tora came in, leaning heavily on the arm of his advisor, Simeon. Silver hair cut short and spiked flopped over his brows. He reached the chair and it was evident he struggled to hold on.
Tears flowed freely now and Rena sniffled as she wrapped her arms about her middle. For as long as she lived, King Tora had ruled the Silver. He maintained control over a group who rarely had visits from other sects due to the often arctic conditions of their remote territory. As a result, tempers flared and infighting was common.
Through it all King Tora held them together and led with a strength to be admired.
“There will be no grand speech from me. This day is long overdue. I am honored the Goddess of Fate chose me to carry the mantle and believe I made her proud. If I had one wish, could change one thing—I would have made the woman I loved as a young male my lira. Instead, I let duty blind me and eventually she chose someone else to cherish her heart.” He frowned, gold eyes shadowed by grief. “Today another will take my place. Be wise, be kind and grab love when given the chance.”
King Tora leaned back in the throne and his head tipped to the side. His death came like a ripping tide. The mantle heaved with such force, Rena cried out. Pain lashed at her senses, sadness darkening the edges of her heart.
Faris glanced over his shoulder, his amber gaze torn. She attempted to smile through her grief, wanting to reassure him during such a grave occasion.
The corners of his lips tipped up and then his spine arched. His smile contorted into a macabre grimace. Rena jammed a fist in her mouth to still the sounds she wanted to make. Lightning cracked around them and someone screamed. Another boom from overhead and several men kneeling on the floor collapsed on choked groans.
Beside her, women swiped futilely at their tears, mixed emotions keeping them all unbalanced. This was a joyous time but somber as well. Power surged in erratic waves as the mantle sought a new king to house its base. Part of Rena wished for it to pick a strong, worthy male.
Anyone other than Faris.
He was loyal, steadfast and would make an excellent king, but his life wouldn’t be his own. He’d be forever bound to duty, the Silver coming before anything else. As it should.
Hope fluttered when Jarvis crashed to his back, arms raised and fingers knotted into fists. Jarvis was an excellent fighter and full of honor. His body jerked on the floor, heels kicking. Determination whitened his knuckles as he fought to harness a power source unfathomable.
Rena bit her bottom lip. Come on, come on. Then Jarvis stilled. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Further down a woman wailed, the sound one of devastating loss. The darker aspect of the mantle was its potential to kill the host it selected if the individual couldn’t contain the swelling energy. It was the greatest fear of every female present.
Tension mounted and the air grew thick. Breath held, they waited. Suddenly, Faris trembled, hands clenched on his thighs and neck thrust backward. Tendons and veins popped against his skin.
“Rena!”
His teeth bared in a snarl. He faced her on his knees, gaze locked on hers as beads of sweat rolled from his temple and down his cheeks. Horror slammed into Rena. It wasn’t just pain she witnessed. It was soul biting agony.
“Sor—ry.” His lips moved, framing the word. Regret and acceptance followed.
Confusion was Rena’s first reaction. Why was he sorry? Even as she questioned it, the reasons sorted through her brain at rapid speed. The answer hit like a glaring light. Her breath jolted. He believed he was going to die. She couldn’t lose Faris. He was her heart, every breath she took.
It was Rena’s worst nightmare, but she shoved back her panic and tried to convey her faith in him. Ignoring everyone else, she yelled out, “Hold it, Faris. You can hold it.”
Groans filled the room as one by one men fell to the floor. Only Faris remained upright. Tanned skin darkened a deep red from strain. Lines creased his face as he began to jerk and grunt, his distress and terror evident.
Death would not take him from her. Rena stiffened, moving slightly from the wall and refused to look away. The mantle had chosen. Faris was going to be their new King. She could feel it. Pressing two fingers to her lips in a kiss, she looked him in the eye and said, “I love you.”
Silver light burst from his chest, forcing his eyes closed as he screamed.
***
Faris roared in pain and fury, his body pummeled by sensations, none of them good. His skin felt stripped and burned. Tearing sensations rolled up and down his back while the mantle did its best to shred him from the inside out.
It was too much. Too strong. If Jarvis had fallen, a fierce fighter, Faris had no chance. He was good, strong and able, but nothing could have prepared him for receiving layers of power thrown at him.
His teeth vibrated on the need to scream again and again. If the muscles in his jaw hadn’t locked, they would have rolled loud and free. The only constant keeping him on this plane was the sight of Rena. She stood across the room staring at him, love blazing from her golden eyes.
Regret hit him hard. What they shared was special. Still in its early phase, yet strong. He’d wanted Rena for his lira.
‘I’m sorry, Rena,’ he wanted to say. ‘So fucking sorry, amans.’
Because now he wasn’t sure if he’d live to see the night through. And if there was one thing Faris would regret for all of his days if the Goddess of Fate chose to call him home, it would be that he hadn’t gotten the chance to officially call Rena his.
Wanting his last sight to be of the female he loved more than his own life, Faris used brute strength to keep his eyes open. She touched her fingers to her lips in a familiar gesture. Air kisses. In the forge when he visited Rena, she’d blow him air kisses, hands covered in bulky leather gloves as she labored over deadly weapons.
Icy pricks of pain slashed at his senses, almost blinding him with the intensity and still he made out what she whispered when her lips moved.
“I love you.”
The words brought with them a surge of energy. Faris clung to her love in an iron clad grip. Rena loved him. Rena loved him.
Behind the conviction, hundreds of voices poured into his mind. Confusion, need and panic tore through him along with a loud hum.
The mantle. History lessons couldn’t compare to what Faris felt in this moment as the force of the power for the Silver Dracol rammed into his body and took root. When it was over, he fell forward, palms braced on the floor. His chest heaved with every breath.
Footsteps approached. Hands helped him wobble to his knees. Getting to his feet required too much effort, so he rested on his haunches. King Tora’s advisor, Simeon, broke the silence. “All hail King Faris of the Silver.”
A deafening cheer went up.
King. He was king. The pulse of his people drummed inside his head. He instinctively soothed them with a mental caress, letting them know he was here. They were safe.
The loud hammering in his brain faded. Faris blew out a breath and dropped to his side, body clammy and shivers causing him to twitch on the cold tile.
His last thought was of Rena. Oh, amans, what will
become of us?
Chapter 2
20 Years later
She was a hunter. Tracker. A weapons master. One of the best the Silver had. But before that she’d been his lover. His soul mate.
Faris stared from his hidden spot in the shadows as the female, who still commanded his heart, laughed with the group of hunters she’d spent the morning with.
There were three males and two females in the party with her. Thick furs of purest white graced the shoulders of their silver vests, black pants made of the warmest material covered their legs. Snow kicked up beneath their lined boots as they made their way down the path to the food storage with their bounty. Happiness at the success of their hunt flowed on the air in the form of laughter.
Even if it hadn’t, Faris would have taken note of it through the mantle. At any given moment he could tap into their emotions, sense their every thought through the mental connection bestowed on him by his position as King of their sect.
In the beginning, it had been unavoidable. No longer. With practice, he’d built a wall in his mind to contain the massive load of information pouring into his conscious in an endless stream.
Years he’d struggled. Years he’d pushed Rena away because he feared he might hurt her. Learning to control the power surges where he shot frozen shards of ice from his palm had not come easy.
“Good work today, Rena,” one of the males said.
“Well done as always,” another chimed.
Jealousy was a vicious tangle. His inner Dracol snarled when the tallest of the males slung an arm about her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.
Propping a shoulder against the doorway, Faris continued to watch their group. Rena didn’t push away from the intimate touch. Instead, she smiled up at Donal. Faris knotted the fingers of his right hand and slid the other into his pocket.
Frost Fire (A Novel of the Dracol Book 3) Page 1