by Ava Sinclair
Tythos begins to move then. Or, at least, his cock does. He’s lying on the bed, but his cock is moving up and down, pulsing up and down, softly at first, then harder. It’s powerful, the length of it pulsing and receding with a rhythm that seems to change minute to minute. It snakes deeply inside of me then stops, the head of it swelling. Then the entire length of it begins to vibrate from base to tip, and I scream with a powerful internal orgasm.
And he’s just getting started. His cock hardens as it vibrates. It no longer feels like flesh, but something rock hard and heavy and warm. He pulls out, turns me over and thrusts back inside me from behind. I’ve nearly come when he pulls out again, this time pressing the knob of his cockhead against my clit. The solid pressure vibrating against my tender nub drives me up passion’s peak once more and I careen down with a wild cry. Tythos climbs from the bed and lifts me into his arms. I look down, my eyes widening in surprise. His cock has changed shape. It’s hooked upward, the head a hard ball of flesh. He slides me down on it, the round bulb vibrating wildly inside me. I buck my hips against him. His lips find mine and he kisses me, laughing against my mouth. He’s enjoying this, enjoying my loss of control. I tear my mouth away from his and sink my teeth into his shoulder. He cries out, grabs my ass, turns, walks to the wall where he pushes me against the stone and pounds my pussy until I can’t breathe.
I reach back, grasp the thick knot of his hair, holding his head still. I look into his eyes. They are golden yellow and for a moment I feel afraid, for…no, no…surely, I’m mistaken. It’s the heat, the passion, the references to riding the dragon. They’re making me see things. I wrap my arms around him. He takes me backs to the bed, pulls me off his cock, throws me down. I clamber to all fours, eager for more, frightened by my own wild passion, by how aroused I am by this man I thought I’d hate. My thighs are wet. I’m literally dripping both with arousal and his tribute as well. I feel a finger winding through my slit, stroking, but that can’t be. There’s one hand in my hair and another on my hip. It’s his cock, elongated now, moving like a finger, but flattened like a tongue. It moves to my bottom hole and I cry out, reaching back. Tythos catches my wrist and I feel the tip of his cock slip just a little into my bottom hole. I cry out from the sting.
“No!” I say, and to my surprise he stops and laughs, flopping down on the bed to pull me beside him.
“One night, I will,” he says.
I’m gasping, my body still heaving with the subsiding waves of my last orgasm. “One night, I’ll let you.”
Tythos looks at me in the fiery glow of the room.
“Little Lyla,” he says. “You have amazed me this night. You have made me happy, but you have also made me feel sick with pity.”
“Pity?” I ask.
“Yes. For all those females I will never fuck, all those females who will still throw themselves at me only to have me look away and say, ‘No, for you cannot possibly please me as my wild little human mate does.’”
I raise myself up on one elbow. “You don’t have to say that,” I tell him.
“I’m not. Years ago…” He pauses. “My father told us that when the right mate came, we would want for no other. Part of me did not want to believe it. I feared it would make me less of a Drakoryan, less virile somehow. But tonight…Never have I surged like I did with you. You will be enough. The only pain will be those nights you lie with another.”
I smile at him, not knowing what else to say.
And then he pulls me to him, and I sleep.
DRORGROS
Where is Imryth?
I’m in no mood to search the castle, and bark the question at every servant I pass. I am rarely in so foul a temper. I do not like to see the servants’ friendly faces transformed by fright as I snap at them, but with each shake of the head, each, “No, my lord,” I grow more anxious.
Imryth is usually the reliable one. Within hours, Tythos will enter the hall with Lyla clad in ruby red, his color. The crowds will roar especially loud, for their arrival will bring the House of Fra’hir one step closer to the Deepening, and with it, the bond that quickens our seed. But the Deepening won’t happen until the final mating. Imryth is the last. Where is he?
He must be in the castle, because if he isn’t, that can mean only one thing — he has defied my wishes and gone to scout. I’ve searched it all, from the Oracle’s keep to the storerooms to the pools to the libraries. I’ve looked in every nook and alcove. The only place I did not search was the Crystal Cavern, the exclusive realm of bonded females. It is full today with the mates of the Drakoryan celebrating in the hall. After the Deepening, Lyla will be welcomed there for her own celebration, and after that, she will become its official Mistress, hosting other human mates in the cavern whenever there is a council meeting or other affair here at Castle Fra’hir.
There is only one place to look. I descend to the bowels of the castle, past the dungeon to a hidden passage that leads to a great cave opening to an inland sea. Here there are platforms that jut out over the water. A dragon rests on one of the rocks. I recognize him by his color — a silvery blue. It is Skryll, one of Enid’s mates in his drake form. I saw him at dawn, reeling in the sky and sparring for fun with one of his brothers. I call to him now and he lifts his head and yawns, a plume of smoke rising from his throat. He sits up, stretching as we begin a telepathic communication common to our kind.
“Drorgros. What brings you here?”
“Where’s your brother, Bartax?”
He stretches again, rubbing his eyes. “He left earlier, with Imryth.”
I curse under my breath. “Did he say where they were going?”
“No, only that they’d be back before everyone in the hall woke up.”
“Curses to those two. I told my brother not to leave!”
“He’s probably just sparring,” Skryll says. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. It’s his night with your mate, after all. Surely…”
I turn away, not wanting to alarm Skryll. So far, we are the only ones who know about the ShadowFell. We will have to call the council soon enough, but I do not want to raise panic before the Deepening, especially given the prophecy. Once we have all consummated the union with Lyla and formed our bond, then we will call the lords together. They will want more confirmation than just the word or our oracle. This will call for a visit to the witches. There will be much to discuss.
But first things first.
“I need to find him,” I say.
“I’m sure he’ll return,” Skryll calls after me, but I’m already allowing the change to come over me. I feel the heat rise, feel the dragon inside me start to uncoil, first as a thread of fire that courses through every vein, every artery, every available pathway. It burns me from inside, consuming my human shape. I reform as green flame, and feel the flame grow and shape itself into the semblance of a dragon. My body knits itself back together; it is the old magic at work, changing me from the Drakoryan who bedded Lyla, to the monster who burned her bonds and snatched her from the ledge. It is our secret, and one that will be revealed at the Deepening, when she will absorb the secret of our kind in the blink of an eye, when she will become one with our mystery and understand, and not be afraid.
I stand, solid now, and spread my mighty wings, thrusting myself over the inland sea and towards the dot of light that grows bigger as I approach. I burst through the cave mouth, wheeling through the air, my nostrils flaring. I search my mind, seeking to lock into Imryth’s, but he has closed his to me. That was my first clue that he was not in the castle. I can feel my brothers, even when I cannot see them, and they, me. It is not a bond as strong as what we will feel with our mate, but it is still there.
I do not need to hear his thoughts to know where to go. He’s patrolling, taking Bartax with him. I can appreciate his desire to scout, to look for any signs that the enemy may be closer, but today it is just too risky.
I bank to the east; he will want to check the closest villages. I increase my speed, finding an air cu
rrent. I could easily drift along on it, but today I use it to enhance my speed. As I pump my wings, the landscape below becomes a blur. I slow down over a village, glancing at it through holes in the clouds. I am too high up for the villagers to see me, but with my superior sight I can hone in on them. Patches of crops spring from the ashy surroundings. Each year we allow them a little more fertile ground, as a reward. The rest we keep burnt.
I accelerate again and there, on the horizon are two dragons, red and slate gray. I arc wide, diving below a mountain ridge and come up through a pass, dodging and weaving through the peaks.
I shoot between two mountains, surprising them. They separate, wheeling through the air, pushed apart by the gusts of my wings. Bartax recovers first, then Imryth, who hits an updraft, shoots skyward and recovers. He whirls on me in the air, roaring in indignation.
I move in front of him and roar back.
Brother, you defied me.
Brother, you are not my father.
Brother, our mate awaits. Have you forgotten?
Brother, we have enemies afoot. Have you?
We face one another, both seeking to hover in place as we beat our wings inward. It’s a test of strength in which we both seek to hold our position against the competing gust.
We will discuss this at home. A growl accompanies Imryth’s thought message.
Yes, we will.
He banks away, and I follow, close on his tail. I know Imryth. By the time he gets back he will retreat, not from fear, but from indignation. I do not want this. He is intense when offended. He is not like Zelki, whose heated temper burns itself out. Imryth’s mood turns dark. I must talk to him, explain once again why I have fetched him back. I do not want him brooding when he goes to Lyla. The last mating is as important as the first. A good one enhances the power of the Deepening. A bad experience, or lack of connection, can create a block.
Imryth is rocketing towards home, and I push myself to catch him. When I do, I will confront him. I will fix this.
LYLA
Tythos is gone. He left me sleeping. I awake to find Beti sitting by the huge stone bed. When I quickly pull a blanket over myself to cover my nakedness, she chuckles and asks if everyone is so modest in my village. She asks me why someone so beautiful is ashamed of her skin. I’ve never looked at it that way.
When I rise from the bed, I realize what a powerful lover Tythos was. I’m still tired, and more than a little sore. Unlike the others, he took me more than once, waking me at least twice. I know my nights with him will not include much sleep. Despite Imryth’s kindness, the thought of lying with him fills me with dread. How can my poor body endure? Then I remember the pools and ask Beti if she can take me.
She’s more than happy to, and gives me a shift to wear until I change into Tythos’ gown. The cheering, she assures me authoritatively, will be thunderous when I am handed off to the last brother. She chats merrily as we walk, describing the food and merriment I can expect at the final nights of the celebration, how grand it will be. I try to listen, but all I can think of is sinking into the healing waters.
I’m lucky, she says, to get to enjoy the pools in private. Before the other lords leave to return to their own castles, this cavern will be filled with Drakoryans replenishing themselves after days of drinking and feasting. I’m glad, too. I’m in no mood to see anyone now, although when she mentions food, my stomach growls. To my embarrassment, Beti hears it.
“You’re hungry,” she observes, looking around, and frowns. “Meda is supposed to keep a bowl of fruit here. That lax girl. When I see her, I shall box her ears. Would you like me to fetch some?”
“Would you?” I ask, my stomach growling again as I think of the huge grapes and juicy melons I’ve come to crave.
“Yes.” But then looks worried. “Maybe I shouldn’t go. I can’t let you stay in too long.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” I promise. “Zelki warned me. Only a few moments, until I feel less tired and sore. I’m starving. Please?”
Beti hovers a moment more, but when I assure her I’ll be fine, she scurries off. I climb into the pool, finding a ledge where I can sit and sink up to my neck. The relief is instant. I feel the fatigue lift from my body. My sore nipples and pussy tingle as the tenderness dissipates. I lean back and close my eyes.
Just a moment, I tell myself, but a moment turns into two, and then more. The feeling is intoxicating. I hear a dripping sound and open my eyes, looking for the sound that seems to come just to my left, but there is nothing. I sit up, searching, for it is getting louder. I find myself focusing on a stalactite on the far side of the massive cavern, and when I do, I gasp. Even though it is far across the cavern, I am seeing with great clarity. And the small drop of water dripping from the end of it makes the sound I heard. That, too, is magnified.
I climb from the pool, cursing myself. I promised Beti I’d be careful, and I wasn’t. I wonder how long the effect will last. Hopefully not long. Zelki was right. My senses feel overwhelmed.
I don my shift I was wearing when I entered, letting it slip over my still wet body. It clings to my skin. I undo the plait of hair I’d bundled on top of my head and let it fall. I feel restless and begin to walk around, hoping to expend some of the energy that sits like a ball in my belly. I meander between the pools until I reach a wall. I wonder if it is warm. I reach out to touch it, and when I do, I instantly draw back in fright.
Did I cause the noise I heard? It’s not a dripping this time, but something else, something loud. I touch the wall again, and hear nothing, at least not at first. But a moment later, there it is again. A roar. And a whooshing noise.
Dragons. I can hear them. I can hear them through the walls. My heart begins to pound as my mind flashes back to the moment I saw the massive head, that huge, knowing eye. The dragon was a beast I should never have wanted to see again. The mere notion should scare me. Why am I so driven to see them? Is it because the Drakoryan are hiding them from me? They say all will be revealed if I will only wait. I do not want to wait.
They are close. I have to see them. I rush from the cavern, tilting my head to discern the direction of the sound. It’s to the right, and down. I break into a run, drawn by the noise I can still hear. The cavern narrows and grows darker. I stop long enough to wrench a candle from one of the sconces before hastening onward.
Why is it taking so long? I’m not tired, but I am baffled. I can hear movement of something large ahead. Then it occurs to me. The pool. What I’m hearing is still far off. I should stop. I should return to the pool. Beti will be in such a state, and no doubt feel betrayed by my departure. But my curiosity burns in me. Zelki only allowed me a glimpse. There is a dragon down here, and I am determined to see it all, and up close.
Think of the danger!
My sensible mind tries to reason with my overwhelming willfulness. But I am energized, propelled by this singular desire. I continue to run, and then I hear pounding and ahead, I see dim light. There is an opening. I sprint faster, not tiring even though my lungs are burning.
I force myself to slow, however, as I reach the end of the tunnel. I see water. Lots of it. At the end of the tunnel is a huge, flat rock. Beyond that is more water than I’ve ever seen in my life. It slams against the edge of the flat rock, throwing up salty spray and foam. The water is hemmed in by a massive cave lit by small openings in the rocks overhead. Ledges stick out from the rocks, and there, on one of them, is a silver blue dragon. Another, steel gray, wheels above and settles on a far ledge, roaring. The silver dragon answers. I cover my ears. The sound is so loud I feel as if my head my split, but I do not leave. I train my eyes on it, availing myself of my keen senses to focus. I put my hand to my mouth, stifling a cry of delight.
It’s real, and beautiful, with silvery blue scales. It is resting now, its eye closed tight, its serpentine neck curled around its body, its wings folded along its back. Is this where they keep them, then? Do the Drakoryan lure them in? I look around for food, for what else would ent
ice these beasts to rest in this subterranean cavern. Does the water draw them? Can they swim? How did the Drakoryan come to master these huge creatures, to get them to do their bidding? I have so many questions, but another sound has gotten my attention. Another roar, and the sound of it reverberates through my body even though I cannot see its source. The dragons hear it, too, and raise their heads. I duck behind a pillar, turning my focus towards the mouth of the cave. I hear the roar again, and then another.
A winged shape appears. Another dragon. No, two dragons! One is chasing the other, and when they move beneath the shaft of light coming through the top of the cave, I can see the color of the first one. It’s gold. And then I see the second one, larger and fierce. Green. And I know with one glance that this isn’t just any dragon. This is my dragon, the one that snatched me from the ledge. It’s chasing the gold one, which dips and dives. The green one seeks to intercept it, spreading its wings, but the gold dragon is too fast. It shoots upward, looping over and past the green dragon, and I realize with horror that they are now both coming right for this ledge, right for me!
Even though I’m behind the ledge, the force of the wind from the gold dragon’s wings as it brakes nearly knocks me down, and the ground vibrates under my feet as it lands heavily on the ledge. The green dragon is next, and I sink down to keep from falling, gripping the pillar as I peek from behind it. The dragons are facing one another. The green one circles the golden one, curving its body around it as if trying to contain it. The gold one flattens its neck and roars a warning and I hold my ears, the sound so loud as to be painful.
What happens next should make me scream, but the shock of it freezes my voice in my throat. The gold dragon backs up and instantly bursts into flame. The green dragon does the same and I stare, hand over my mouth at these twin towers of fire – one green, one gold - where two dragons had just been. The flames begin to condense, shrink and take on another shape. The shape of men. And then, before my eyes, the flaming men solidify, and there before me stand two Lords of Fra’hir, the one who took my virginity, and the one who is supposed to bed me tonight.