by Lora Leigh
They tore through the castle, following the remnants of pain, the magickal bond she had created in a burst of fear. Terror pounded through their bodies. What if they were not in time? They could feel her life force, holding steady, desperate, then in a flash, brutal and cold, her desperate cries were silent.
Drago was aware of his cry as he sprinted into the back gardens. The echo of a fierce, savage dragon cry vibrated through the enclosed perimeter, fueling his need for added speed.
Garron was enraged. They heard screams, but not cries of a woman’s fears. It was the male cries of pain that lingered beneath the earth shattering savagery of the dragon’s war cries.
“Secure the area,” Drago screamed out to the Sentinel guards as they converged around him. “No one in, no one out.”
He and Lasan tore through the underbrush, fighting their way through the quickest route to where they knew Brianna would be. Hot energy flowed through their bodies, the air crackling with emerald green and sapphire blue bolts of energy as a final cry faded into silence.
As Drago tore around the last bend, he ignored the enraged dragon, his eyes going instead to the fragile, fallen form of his Consort.
“Brianna,” he screamed her name as he slid to his knees beside her, only distantly aware of the sharp, blood soaked talons of the dragon’s foot beside him.
She was gripping the dragon’s leg, blood marring her forehead and the side of her face, a ragged slash cut into her chest. Sweet merciful Sentinels, they had tried to cut her heart from her chest.
She breathed. Her chest moved, a whimpering moan sounded from her lips. Drago tore his shirt from his body in a single movement, binding the wound, his hands shaking, fear thundering through his body as the green and blue auras of his and Lasan’s magick wrapped around her.
“The liquid silver pools,” Garron’s voice was imperative, savagely commanding as Drago lifted her into his arms, coming to his feet in a single bound.
“Where are they?” Drago bit out, staring up at the blood stained mouth and sharp teeth of an enraged dragon.
“Hold to me, we shadowwalk.”
There was no time to debate the matter. The liquid silver pools were the magick of the gods and there was nothing or no one that could heal her faster. Within seconds, they were deep beneath the bowels of the castle, in a large grotto of multi-colored gems and precious stones.
Drago and Lasan barely noticed the shimmer of silver light that reflected along the walls and ceiling as they quickly removed Brianna’s gown. Next came their own clothing, fast, furious, taking no time to care if seams ripped or buttons tore. Time was of the essence now. The ragged wound was steadily seeping her life force, making her weaker by the second.
Within seconds, Drago was easing himself carefully into the pool, steeling himself against the incredible pleasure that began to surround him the further he immersed himself in it.
Lasan eased Brianna into his arms, then quickly followed. Neither Wizard was prepared for the incredible surge of power and pleasure that wrapped around them.
Brianna moaned as they eased her into the gently swirling liquid. Her head fell back on Drago’s shoulder, her arms lying lax at her side as they immersed her to her neck, praying they had reached her in time.
Chapter Nine
“Drago? Is she well?” Queen Amoria and the two Princesses had entered the grotto without their knowledge. So intent had they been on Brianna, that they had never known of the dragon’s disappearance and reappearance with the women.
“She lives,” Lasan smoothed her hair back from her face, cupping the shimmering liquid in his hand and dribbling it over the wound just inside her hairline.
She moaned, her head turning away from him as the liquid adhered to the ragged cut, sealing it closed, then working to repair the damage that had been wrought.
“Garron destroyed the assailants.” Queen Amoria rose to her feet and paced to the far edge of the grotto. “There was nothing left to question.”
“Dragons have never been known for their even tempers.” Lasan shrugged off the problem. There would be others to question soon. The Sentinel guards were capable of melding with the most evil minds to ferret out the information needed. They would find any betrayers who still lingered within the castle. Then, Lasan and Drago both swore, they would pay for their deceptions.
“They killed my man, the father of my children.” The Queen’s voice had Lasan watching her carefully, compassionately. “I have tried to warn my people that we did not defeat them all those years ago. But they have continued to believe our weakening power would protect us.”
Regret and concern filled her voice.
“Queen Amoria, all of Sentmar is weakening in power,” Lasan told her fiercely. “We have warned you of this. The magick rings around our moons should have warned you decades ago. This continued separation risks us all.”
He was aware of the princesses aligning themselves with their mother, standing calm and silent, an obvious presence should she need them.
“I would have preferred that it be Brianna’s choice to be a Consort of love. Not forced to be a Consort of power,” she said bleakly. “I have the old writings, Wizards. The proof that both Cauldaran and Covenani began to consort for reasons of power rather than love. That they did not heed the laws of Joining, and they did not bring affection, nor respect into their homes.”
She turned back to him, her brows lowered over dark worried eyes. “I would have wished more than that for my daughter.”
“We have not even once deviated from the laws of Joining,” Drago reminded her harshly. “From the moment we lowered ourselves before her, servants to her power, we have observed all things that the Sentinel Wizards and the Matriarch Sorceress demands. She is a part of us, Queen Amoria, heart and soul.”
Amoria watched them, then her eyes moved to her daughter. Brianna was relaxed now within Drago’s arms, not conscious yet, but breathing easier, a soft flush mounting her cheekbones, where as minutes before, her face had been deathly pale.
“Do you know, Wizard Twins, the other use the gods gave us the pools of power for?” she asked him quietly.
They inhaled roughly. They knew well the other use. They knew well that this would speed up the building power within Brianna, setting the Joining to come much sooner than they had intended. It would also build her arousal, her natural need and desire for them to levels that were once used as little more than excuses for royal orgies before the separation of the races.
“Queen Amoria, your daughter will always know our respect, and our caring,” Drago promised her. “But to ensure this, it is likely a good idea that you and your daughters leave, so we may remove ourselves from its sensuous grip.”
Brianna moaned, a soft, decidedly pleasurable sound as Lasan felt her moving against the burgeoning erection that strengthened between Drago’s thighs. Lasan admitted his own erection was nearly at peak power now.
The princesses flushed in embarrassment, though Queen Amoria only rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“I will await you in her room.” She motioned regally to her daughters and moved quickly to the arched stone doorway across the grotto.
“Grant me strength,” Drago groaned then as his cock jerked against Brianna’s tender buttocks. “Had I known this awaited me, I think I would have sat along the edge and merely dipped her in.”
Lasan could not resist cupping her cheek gently and placing a tender kiss along the curve of her lips.
“Let us hurry,” he groaned. “Before we both lose what little control we have and prove once and for all that our hunger is greater than our honor.”
They moved quickly from the pool and wrapped Brianna’s body quickly in a large towel before dressing and carrying her to her room. She was placed gently in her bed, left to the care of her mother and sisters.
As one, Drago and Lasan moved quickly to where the Sentinel guards awaited them. Someone had to have let the Seculars into the secured gardens. They could not have come over
the walls, for the Snow Owls were nesting, and they had sent up no alert of intruders in that area, which meant a traitor resided within the castle itself.
Chapter Ten
There was no sign of betrayers within or without the castle. Confusion reigned after the attack on Brianna, and no amount of searching, or scanning of the humans’ minds by the Sentinel guards turned up any evidence. Knowing now that she was a target of the Seculars only increased Drago and Lasan’s determination to convince her to agree to the Joining. The peak in her power could come at any time. The small amount of time she had spent within the liquid silver pools was already showing its effect.
That evening, Lasan followed her slowly as she returned to the gardens, though she did not venture too deeply this time. She stood beneath a low, overhanging tree and stared at the darkened area where she had been attacked.
Dressed in a long gown the color of sunrise, she was like a shining beacon, a promise of passion and heat. Her long, red-gold hair caressed her hips, shimmered in the light of the moons, and tempted his touch as few other things ever had.
“You should be resting.” He stepped carefully behind her, aware of Drago waiting, none too patiently, in the dark privacy of his room.
Their passions were heightened now as well, due to their time in the powerful liquid of the gods. Heat seared their loins, tormented them with their needs and the remembered feel of her body. Impatience was edging their emotions to the point that even Lasan was beginning to feel the pressure.
“I have rested enough.” Elegant shoulders lifted in a negligent shrug. “I am tired of resting, and I am tired of being hovered over. So do not hover over me, Lasan.”
She did not turn back to look at him. Her voice was controlled, her tone even, but he could hear the rising confusion and imbalance that filled her. Her power was rising.
He stepped to her, laying his hands against the warmth of her shoulders and feeling the small tremble of reaction that rippled over her body.
“Brianna,” he whispered, turning her to him.
Lust slammed into his loins, causing his cock, already hardened in need, to throb painfully. Her face was flushed, her violet eyes dark with arousal. Her breasts were swollen and rising and falling rapidly, the nipples hard, distended and pressing pleadingly against the cloth of her gown.
She licked her lips and he wanted to groan.
“Do you have any idea,” he said roughly, “how much we need you?”
“Gods, there you go with that ‘we’,” she flared furiously, staring at him as though he had somehow mortally offended her. “I do not want a ‘we’, Lasan. What about you? What do you want? What does Drago want that you don’t?”
Her defiance stroked fires Lasan once thought only Drago had.
She would tempt the patience of a Wizard Sentinel, Drago cursed.
A Wizard Sentinel was the most powerful, the most revered of the ancients. Lasan clenched his jaw as he silently agreed with his brother. His body burned for her, his heart ached to see her within his castle, stretched upon the bed that had been specially made for her to share with them.
“Then I wish to touch you, Brianna,” he soothed her, his hand feathering over her bare arm. “It has been over a year since you have allowed me to taste your sweet kiss.”
She jerked in remembrance and Lasan’s body hardened. His mouth on hers, his hands holding her near as Drago’s lips had feathered over her shoulders, her neck. She had been wild with need, her hips pressing against him, the plump mound of her cunt grinding hesitantly against his erection. His head lowered as he remembered her kiss, how her tongue had so shyly tangled with his. His lips met hers and he groaned out his need as she opened to him, seemingly as powerless in the grip of their lust as was he.
Desire wrapped around him. His, Drago’s, Brianna’s. It was a heat like nothing he had known in his life, a hunger that nearly stripped his control as he jerked her tighter against him, his hands dragging her gown up her slender legs, until he could caress the smooth satin of her thighs.
“Lasan,” she cried out his name as his hand curved around the hot, slick folds of her cunt. She was wet, her juices flowing along the delicate curls and leaving him hungry for the taste of her.
His finger tested the sweet, slick passage of her vagina. By the Sentinel’s rod, she was tight. She gripped his finger with fire and creamy passion.
“Come to our room,” he growled, his finger pressing scant inches into the wet, silken passage, his cock tightening, so hard now the ache was physical. “Please, Brianna, let us show you how much we need you.”
She tensed within his arms, a strangled moan of rejection escaping her throat as she fought now to be free of his hold. Lasan released her, despite Drago’s silent, protesting curse.
He watched her with narrowed eyes, feeling her heat, seeing the small, betraying quiver of need that rushed over her body.
“We?” She shook her head, backing quickly away from him. “No. No ‘we’. You, Lasan. Just you.”
He pushed his fingers impatiently through his hair.
“Brianna, there is no ‘just’ Lasan,” he groaned impatiently, his body throbbing with need. “There never will be, especially not where you are concerned. We are connected, spiritually as well as mentally. You will be a Consort to both of us, you know this well.”
“I will be nothing to you,” she bit out heatedly. “Nor to that stubborn brother of yours. I grow tired of hearing this ‘we’ fall from your lips. Perhaps I need to hear, just once, something that only one of you desire alone.”
“Brianna, you are being irrational,” he bit out, fighting for patience in the face of her heated defiance.
He wanted to growl, which was something Drago was prone to, not him. He never growled. But this woman tested his resolve. His resolve, and his lusts.
“Fine, you want nothing for yourself,” she frowned at him her slender brows drawing together in irritation. “What about Drago? Is there not one thing he would desire right now, that you do not?”
He clenched his teeth, fury washing over him. She wanted to push his patience? Then she would see that there was most definitely a limit to it. Especially now, when all he wanted to do was thrust his cock as deep and hard inside her tight cunt as he could get it.
“Drago wants to throw you on the grass and fuck the defiance from your body,” he finally bit out. “I am beginning to agree with him. So it would appear that once again, our needs coincide.”
Her eyes went wide with shock, or excitement. He wasn’t certain of which until her hand cracked against his cheek. Lasan controlled his grin and frowned down at her fiercely instead when the implications of her action sank in.
“Oh, gods,” she whispered, her face paling as she clutched the offending hand to her breast.
“You have struck a Wizard Twin.” He fought to keep the amusement from his voice and inject it instead with a foreboding tone.
Satisfaction filled him. He had never thought it would be so easy. Had he believed it would be, then he would have let Drago inflame her temper months ago.
“It was your fault.” She was breathing harshly, staring up at him worriedly. “You had no right to speak to me in such a way.”
Of course he did not. He was the most patient of Wizards and should have contained his temper. But this opportunity to force the little vixen’s hand was much too good to pass up.
“You had no right to strike me, Princess, no matter the provocation. The laws were created for a reason. You know this well.” He had deserved the slap, he well admitted to this. But it was forbidden for any female to slap or attempt to attack a Wizard Twin, outside that of a Consort. He could use it to blackmail her into a touch, a kiss—
You will not let that sorceress off so easily, Drago scoffed. I will demand a meeting with the Queen now. We can use this to our advantage.
Drago’s impatience beat at Lasan with wings of lust.
It could do more to harm our cause than it could to aid it, Lasan warned hi
m as he watched Brianna’s expression turn decidedly more worried.
How could our cause be harmed much further? Drago argued in disgust. The little witch is determined to deny us. We have not much longer to wait before she enters the zenith of her powers. We cannot afford to delay now that she has given us this opportunity.
Lasan sensed his brother leaving his room quickly and heading for the Queen’s, his expression a mask of determination, fierce and resolved.
Drago would not be denied now. Lasan sighed heavily. He would have wished to have Brianna another way. He would have wished for her cooperation.
“What are you going to do?” she asked him faintly. He could see the fear in her eyes.
“I will not harm you, nor see you harmed,” he sighed heavily, knowing Drago was now set on his goal. “But I alone did not feel the pain of your blow, Brianna. Drago too felt it. He is not as understanding as I.”
He kept his voice gentle, reassuring, though he knew the soft tone did little to sway her fears. He could feel it pouring off her in waves, trembling through her body as she fought to control it.
“No.” She clutched his arm, her nails biting into his skin as she stared up at him, her violet eyes wide and shimmering with tears. “Don’t let him hurt me, Lasan. He will if you don’t stop him.”
Lasan frowned down at her, confused by the sudden terror washing over her.
“Brianna, Drago would never harm you.” He shook his head, lifting his free arm until he could touch the tear that trickled down her cheek. “Why would you believe such a thing as this? He would no more harm you than would I.”
She was breathing raggedly now, her violet eyes wide pools of nearing terror.
“Why do you lie to me?” she cried out, jerking away from him, trembling. “What is he doing? You know.” Her eyes widened further. “He’s going to Mother.”
Lasan caught her around her slender waist as she started to rush past him.