Claimed by the Dragons_Celestial Mates

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Claimed by the Dragons_Celestial Mates Page 10

by Luna Hunter


  Ragnar wraps one hand around Dru’s back and pulls her close.

  “The bond we have is simply unbreakable.”

  “Then the time for words has ended,” Vladimir says as he throws his cloak to the ground. “You leave me no choice, boys.”

  His skin starts shimmering, turning, changing, and Aksel gasps in horror. “He’s shifting!” he says. “He means to kill us all!”

  “You are infected with the Djall poison!” Vladimir growls. His voice is changing and shifting as well, now reaching a much lower tone. His face is becoming longer, more dragon-like, as his limbs grow. “I will not let you bring down House Velo!”

  Vladimir reaches out and sinks his claws right in Ragnar’s chest. His movements are as quick as lightning, despite his old age. Drusilla gasps in horror as Vladimir flings Ragnar out of the window, blood flying through the air. Vladimir jumps out of the window after him.

  It all happened in the blink of an eye.

  “No!” Kolos screams. He takes two steps and jumps right out the window, following his brother and his father.

  Drusilla is nailed to the ground, fear keeping her from moving even a single inch.

  Aksel is by her side in a flash, and gives her a quick kiss on the lips.

  “For good luck,” he says with a smile.

  And then he’s off as well, diving out the window. Of a castle. That’s built upon a giant mountain.

  Is everyone losing their mind? Drusilla thinks.

  She shuffles towards the window, her heart racing, her throat closed up. Losing the three men now, after all that has happened, after all she’s been through — that would be too much for her. They are her everything. For the first time in her life, she’s opened herself up, made herself vulnerable.

  Please, she prays to whoever is listening. Don’t take that away from me.

  She takes another step towards the window and peeks out.

  What she sees blows her mind.

  Four dragons, four giant, flying dragons, are duking it out in the sky.

  One red, one green, and two silver dragons — Kolos and his father.

  She recognizes her mates right away.

  Aksel sucks in a big gulp of air and covers Vladimir with his electricity-laden breath, wounding the silver giant. The king retaliates right away, swooping down on top of Aksel and raking his back open with his sharp claws.

  Ragnar is wounded as well — his red chest is dripping with blood.

  “Surrender!” Vladimir bellows, his booming voice echoing down the mountain. “Surrender and I’ll let you live!”

  “You’re no match for us,” Kolos answers. “Give up!”

  “Never!” Vladimir screams.

  He darts towards Kolos, his beak open, fangs glistening. Kolos only barely dodges the attack.

  Drusilla is bouncing on her feet. “Come on!” she mutters. “Win! You’ve got to win!”

  “Ready?” Ragnar snarls. “Now!”

  The three brothers all dive towards Vladimir at the same time, mouths open, breaths charged.

  Vladimir opens his beak wide and shoots his ice-breath towards them, as Ragnar, Aksel and Kolos meet that with their fire, electricity and ice breaths.

  A giant cloud of smoke envelops all four of them. It crackles with lightening.

  It hangs in the air.

  Still.

  Drusilla holds her breath, afraid to move, afraid to blink.

  And then, a silver dragon drops, falling towards the Earth like a brick.

  Her heart stops for a moment — until she recognizes the silver dragon.

  It’s Vladimir Velo.

  “Yes!” Drusilla screams, pumping both fists in the air in joy. “Yes yes yes!”

  The thee brothers fly towards the roof of the castle. Dru runs out of Vladimir’s room and races up the stairs, eager to wrap her hands around her mates once more.

  When she reaches the rooftop and sees her mates, her happiness is quickly replaced with fear. All three men are gravely wounded and bleeding profusely.

  She rushes towards Aksel’s side, who is closest to her.

  “Oh stars, are you okay?!”

  “We will be,” Aksel says. He tries to smile, but the wounds on his back make him wince. “Ragnar needs treatment right away though, he’s bleeding out. I need my tools. Can you do exactly as I say?”

  “Of course!” Drusilla says.

  “Okay, listen carefully.”

  Aksel lists off several items — gaze, potions, bandages — and their location in the castle. Dru races down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, as she recalls the instructions over and over again like a mantra.

  No one’s bloody dying on her watch.

  She yanks the door to the infirmary open, ignoring the druids who look up in surprise, and rummages through the supplies closet. Before the druids have even started to call out for her, she’s already back on her way, charging up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

  Kolos and Aksel are both kneeling next to Ragnar, their hands resting on his stomach, keeping the wounds closed.

  “Keep fighting,” Aksel says. “Don’t you give up on me.”

  “Me, give up?” Ragnar breathes heavily. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, brother,” he laughs.

  “Save your strength!” Kolos says.

  “I’ll save your… stre…” Ragnar’s voice trails off, his eyes falling shut.

  “Stay with me!”

  Drusilla runs towards them and thrusts the supplies into Aksel’s outstretched hands.

  “Am I too late?”

  “You’re right on time,” Aksel says. He starts his work, and Drusilla takes a step back as he patches Ragnar up.

  Kolos stands up and Drusilla hugs him right away.

  “I was so scared…”

  “You’ll never have to be scared again,” he answers resolutely.

  “Are you okay?” Dru asks. “I mean, he was your own father…”

  “A man who banished our sister, who would banish you — that’s no father of mine,” Kolos says. “You are the single most important person in our lives.”

  Drusilla searches for the right words — she’s happy, yet at the same time, also feels like all this is, in a strange way, her fault. If she didn’t have Djall blood…

  “Stop it,” Kolos says, as if he could read her mind. He lifts her chin and kisses her gently. “This is not your fault. This had to be done. As simple as that. Understood?”

  Drusilla musters a small smile. “Understood.”

  “Help me carry him down the stairs,” Aksel says. “He’s stable, but he needs to rest.”

  Kolos takes his wounded brother on his shoulders, and together they descend the spiral staircase. At the bottom there’s several House Velo warriors waiting, their eyes wide in shock.

  “My lords, what has happened? We heard fighting, and there are unconfirmed reports of Lord Velo’s demise…”

  “You are correct,” Kolos replies briskly. “Lord Velo has fallen. Ragnar, Aksel and myself will share the throne. Spread the news.”

  The warrior’s eyes widen further. “Y-yes s-sir!”

  Kolos carries Ragnar towards a bed in his chambers, while Drusilla notices all of the warriors, druids, and chambermaids in the halls gossiping with interest.

  “Is that all?” she asks Aksel. “There’s no… trial, no ceremony?”

  “The Xhakan laws of succession are clear — the throne belongs to us. There’ll be a ceremony, don’t worry…. queen.”

  “Queen?” Dru gasps.

  “That’s what you’ll be,” Kolos says. “A Xhakan Queen.”

  Drusilla sits down next to Ragnar’s side and holds his hand, as thoughts of the future run through her mind.

  Drusilla, the half-Djall who grew up stealing from the food-carts on Holanis just to survive… a Xhakan Queen.

  Who would have thought?

  Epilogue

  The warm covers are pulled away from Drusilla.

  Not yet. She doesn’t w
ant to get up. One more minute…

  “Come on, sleepyhead.”

  That’s Kolos’s voice, no doubt about it.

  Dru slowly opens her eyes and peers right into Kolos’s silver ones.

  “Today is the big day.”

  “I don’t want to get up,” Dru complains as she wraps her arms around Kolos’s neck and pulls him in close for a kiss. She can feel Ragnar’s hard body behind her, and she pushes her backside against him.

  His morning erection pokes her right away, and his hands move to her waist, and then to her breasts.

  “See, Ragnar wants to stay as well,” she yawns.

  Ragnar kisses the back of her neck, as Kolos traces her cheek with his thumb.

  “You’re insatiable, you know that, right? Even after last night…”

  The four have been spent every night so far in different combinations, the one constant being that Drusilla was somewhere in between three sweaty Xhakan bodies, and filled by just as many cocks.

  It’s been nothing short of heaven.

  Ragnar’s wounds have healed nicely, and the Xhakans have accepted the three brothers as their new rules without question. In fact, Drusilla has heard from several maids that the people are rejoicing — apparently, Vladimir Velo was not exactly well-loved.

  And Ragnar, Kolos and Aksel? They’ve got their hearts in the right place. They’ve suspended all hostilities with the Djall, and they even invited Samvel and Emla to the Mating Ceremony, which is taking place… tonight.

  All Xhakan nobility will be there.

  Everyone will see her wear a traditional dress, and pledge her undying love to all three brothers.

  It’s the talk of the town.

  And it terrifies Drusilla.

  She reaches back to squeeze Ragnar’s growing erection. He’s hard (but then again, Ragnar always is), and she shimmies her panties down and lines his cock up with her entrance.

  The heat of the two bodies has already gotten her dripping wet.

  “See?” she whines, looking Kolos in the eye as Ragnar pushes himself inside of her. Pure pleasure spreads to ever fiber of her being as the Xhakan sinks every inch of himself into her. “I c-can’t g-get u-up n-now!”

  Dru closes her eyes and enjoys the sensations. Every time a Xhakan cock enters he, she sees stars. Every single time. It’s as if her body was wired to give her an orgasm as soon as one of the three men enters her.

  Within several strokes her mouth is hanging open in ecstasy, and she looks up at Kolos with a wanton look in her eyes.

  He knows exactly what that look means.

  “You’re unbelievable,” Kolos growls as he pushes his robe to the side, exposing his throbbing cock. He kneels right down to Dru’s waiting, open mouth, and feeds the purple head right into her open, waiting mouth.

  The moment her hot lips close around his cock, he lets out a deep sigh. Her tongue is so talented, so skilled — it’s hard to say what he prefers, burying himself inside of Dru’s wet cunt, or feeling her hot tongue on his cock as he watches her body shake and her face contort with pleasure?

  Luckily, Kolos doesn’t have to choose. He can do whatever his heart desires, for Drusilla is always ready.

  “Breakfast is read— oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Aksel says as he walks into the room carrying a tray of steaming hot food several minutes later.

  By now, Drusilla is sitting on her hands and knees, as Ragnar and Kolos both pump themselves into the willing and waiting woman. Their hips are a blur as they pound her relentlessly, jackhammering their cocks into their destinuar.

  Aksel disrobes and approaches the trio, reaching down below to grab hold of her swaying breasts as the other two Xhakans fuck her without abandon.

  “She’s insatiable,” Ragnar growls.

  “Damn right she is,” Aksel chuckles. “Damn right.”

  Drusilla pushes back, waiting for that blissful moment — the moment when she’s filled with Xhakan seed. The feeling is indescribable, nothing short of blissful.

  And with three Xhakan mates to call ‘husband’, well, there’s certainly no shortage of Xhakan cum to fill her with…

  “We have gathered here today to unite Kolos, Ragnar, Aksel and Drusilla in…”

  Dru can barely pay attention to the priest in front of them. The hall is filled with dignitaries, with nobility, with Xhakans and Djalls and some humans as well, all of their attention focused on her and her gorgeous dress, but Dru can’t focus on any of those things.

  All she can do is steal glances at the three gorgeous Xhakans standing right next to her. They’re wearing beautiful ceremonial robes, that hug their broad frames perfectly.

  All of this is mine, she thinks.

  Her father waves at her from afar, and gives her the thumbs up. Emla is sitting right next to him, her hand resting on his knee. Even he is here — her father, the very man she swore to destroy.

  Now she calls him ‘dad’. There is no more place for hatred in her heart. There’s only love there now.

  It is time to focus on the future, to learn how to forgive and forget. The Xhakans and the Djall have made peace, and their two peoples need to be able to look at their leaders for guidance and inspiration. It has to start with her, and so, Drusilla has accepted her father’s apologies.

  However, right now, her thoughts aren’t on the past, or her father. Her thoughts are focused on Kolos’s silver eyes, on Ragnar’s deep voice, on Aksel’s playful smile. It’s almost too good to be true.

  Even after all the nights, the mornings, the afternoons, and the evenings they’ve spent together, she can still barely believe it.

  Sometimes she has to pinch herself to remind herself that yes, this is real. This is actually happening. She’s getting mated, married, bound, whatever you want to call it to three gorgeous, loving, caring, kind, sexy men.

  She’s someone’s wife — or destinuar, as they like to call her.

  Not in a million years had Dru imagined herself at the alter, but now? Now everything is different.

  Now the future looks bright.

  The end! I hoped you enjoyed this story! It’s the first Reverse Harem I’ve written, and I enjoyed the hell out of it. If you want more Xhakans in your life, please leave me a review :) or send me a message!

  You can sign up for my newsletter by clicking here, and I’ll let you know when I have new books out!

  Flip the page to read a small preview of The Alien General’s Baby, the first book in my on-going Zoran series, and to see the list of my other books!

  Thank you for supporting an independent author :)

  Love,

  Luna

  Preview of The Alien General’s Baby (Zoran Warriors Book 1)

  Jillian

  Oh boy.

  I’ve heard only rumors about the ruthless Zoran. Some say they are seven feet tall and all bulging muscle, with sharp fangs and devilish horns, and eyes as red as fire. All I know for sure is that they are the most powerful force in the galaxy, and we humans have stayed clear of them.

  Until now.

  I have no idea how to act around such infamous intergalactic killers. I am a geneticist, not a psychologist or a sociologist. I prefer to spend my time in the lab rather than mingling with people, and the intricacies of interspecies etiquette are absolutely lost on me.

  At the moment, however, I’m concerned with more pressing matters.

  What the hell am I going to wear?!

  The Vonnegut glides its plotted course around Earth, the silence of space a stark contrast to the pandemonium inside my quarters as I desperately search my closet for appropriate attire. I had thought picking an outfit for my brother’s wedding was hard. What are you supposed to wear to an interspecies first contact?

  “Try the black dress,” my assistant Kelly shouts. “I got the perfect heels to match it.”

  I roll my eyes. I’m a woman of science, more at ease in a lab coat than a little black dress, and I am not about to go down in history as the klutz who tripped on her h
eels and spilled hot coffee on a Zoran General and accidentally incited an intergalactic war, thank you very much.

  “What about my lab coat?” I ask Kelly. “I could just wear that. It’s distinguished and lends me an air of credibility… right?”

  “Pff,” Kelly blows me off. “Who cares about any of that? You should look hot,” she says gleefully. “It’s your special night! Your first gala as head of the Bioscience program! Don’t you want to impress those Zoran warriors? I’ve heard they’re huge, with hands twice as big as our own… and you know what they say about aliens with big hands…”

  “Is alien junk all you can think about?” I ask.

  Kelly grins mischievously. “Don’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind.”

  “Never,” I lie.

  Kelly is my best friend, and has been with me throughout my entire career. Wherever I go, she goes. We couldn’t be more different, but it works for us: I’m curvy with an unruly bush of brown curls, while Kelly has a slim figure and straight, golden-blonde hair. Furthermore, I’m perpetually single, while Kelly somehow manages to combine our grueling hours in the lab with an active dating life. How she juggles all her responsibilities is absolutely beyond me, but she pulls it off.

  Together we lead a team with an intimidating but extremely important goal: to cure the black cough. Our planet is buckling under its own weight, and the uncontrolled polluting of the environment throughout the 21st century is now causing massive illnesses all around the globe. Those unfortunate souls who can’t afford to live in the luxury high-rises with their own filtered air systems are exposed to contaminated air on a daily basis.

  I’m fortunate enough to live up here on the Vonnegut now, but my brother Michael still lives on the outskirts of New Atlanta, working in a plant to support his family. I raised him, and my desire to provide a better life for him is what gave me the drive to get where I am today.

  Of course, I’ve had to make quite a few sacrifices to get where I am. I’ve missed more birthdays than I’m willing to count, and worst of all, the birth of my niece, Claire. She’s four years old now, but I haven’t been back to Earth since she was a baby. I tell myself I’m helping them with my research… but at times, that feels hollow.

 

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