by Ines Johnson
An unfathomable look crossed his features. “Sedated.”
“But not you? Not the man?”
“No, I’m very much in control of my faculties.”
He slipped a matching bracelet on her other wrist. His hands were warm. His nails pricked the skin at her wrists, even though his claws weren’t out. On her wrists where the imprint of her struggle with her stripped jeans was still visible.
“Is this more bondage?” she asked.
A slow grin spread across his face. God, this man was devastating.
Chryssie slipped her arms around his neck. The sheet fell from her chest, exposing her bare breasts. Her nipples pointed at exactly who she wanted. Corun tensed, catching her hands before she could lock her fingers about him. So, mister rope man didn’t like to be caught inside a snare.
“Come back to bed,” she urged him.
“No.”
“Why not?” She pulled the covers up to her chin. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You performed perfectly.” He brushed his thumb beneath her chin, tilting her head up.
“But you don’t want any more of me? There’s a whole smorgasbord you haven’t tried.”
He frowned as if he didn’t know that word.
“You tried the boobs, my labia minora, my labia majora, my clitoris, but I’m hoping you might find my G spot.”
Another frown.
“Is that word not known here? We could figure it out together.” Chryssie let the blanket slip again. But he caught it.
“There will be no penetration between us,” he said. “That’s rule number one.”
“Rules? Wait, I thought you needed me to conceive. How are we going to have a baby dragon if you don’t put your cock in me?”
His thumb pinched her bottom lip. “Watch your mouth.”
Chryssie grinned, showing her own teeth. “Or you’ll rinse it out with soap?”
“Why would I do such a vile thing?”
“The deal was I agree to be your sacrifice—”
“You can’t agree to be a sacrifice. If you agree then—”
“—and you give me a baby.”
“If I did that, I’d wind up taking your life.”
“It’s my life. For the first time, I can do with it what I want.”
“Rule number two,” he continued. “I’ll come to you when the beast in me has needs. I’ll give you pleasure in exchange for sedating him. That is our deal.”
“So, you’re just using me.” Chryssie sat up straight, yanking the sheet firmly around her body. “You’re just like the rest of them. I’m just another paycheck.”
“I don’t know what a paycheck is.”
“You’re just like all my foster parents. You’ll feed me, clothe me, keep a roof over my head, and not listen to a thing that I want for my life. All I’ve ever wanted was three things; a family, a baby, and to choose how I die.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“Everyone dies. Very few people get to choose when and how. I’ve been ready to die my whole life.”
Corun ran his hand down her face. She saw the red peeking out of his brown gaze. His flesh turned to soft scales, softer than Rhoyl’s.
“Please,” she begged.
“No.” His voice cracked, and his lip trembled ever so slightly. “I’m going to keep you.”
Why didn’t that make her heart thrill?
Because she’d been taught too well that nothing was permanent.
“Fine,” she said. “No baby. But if you’re going to keep me, I insist on you taking my V card.”
“I ravished you last night.”
"I'm pretty sure my hymen is still intact. So, my vag says I’m still a virgin.”
"That's a myth about hymens. I intend to satisfy you sexually; thoroughly and often. But I will not penetrate you. There will be no tearing of hymens. No babies. No death. You'll live."
And with that, he walked out and closed the door quietly.
Was she supposed to feel happy about that? Grateful? Well, she didn't. He'd just taken her purpose away. He'd taken away how she'd planned to die on her own terms. If he thought she'd let him do what he did to her last night again …
Well, she would.
But he had another thing coming, and that thing would be her. With his huge cock ripping the seal of her mythical hymen wide open.
Chapter Fifteen
Corun tilted his head up to the sky. For the first time in a long time—no. For the first time in his entire life, he felt at ease and completely in control of himself.
His beast still lolled on its back inside of him. The reins lay loose in his gut. There was no tension anywhere in his body. And it was all because of her. Now, he understood why the dragons of the past had fought over and died to possess sacrifices. His own father had killed off the heads of other dragon clans for the last three sacrifices that had come through the Veil.
His luck ran out when Kimber challenged him for the fourth sacrifice. Once Cardi was safely tucked under his wing, and he was the leader of the family, Kimber abolished the practice of fighting to the death for a mate.
A roar tore through the air, capturing Corun’s attention. Rock crumbled and fell to the ground in a crash. Though his blood had settled with the arrangement with his mate, his brothers’ blood still boiled. Beryl and Ilia were at it again.
“It’s my turn,” shouted Ilia.
“Is not,” Beryl said, but his smug grin told a different story.
Beryl’s favorite pastime, other than video games, was poking the bear that was his runt of a brother. Ilia had a desperate need to always prove himself having been born so small. Their father had left him outside to the elements when he’d seen Ilia’s size. Against their father’s orders, Kimber and Corun had tended to their fledging brother until he could stand on his own two feet.
“Give it to me,” demanded Ilia.
“Come and get it,” chided Beryl, tossing the Magic 8-Ball from one hand to another.
Ilia shifted, barreling into his brother. Though Ilia was smaller as a man, his dragon was as monstrous as they came. Probably more so. Likely because the man had had to fight so hard to survive. His beast was overprotective and would come out at the slightest provocation.
Beryl caught the dragon in his burly arms. Blood leaked from Beryl’s bicep as Ilia’s claws dug in. With a gleeful roar, Beryl shifted. The black ball dropped to the ground, forgotten.
Off to the side, Rhoyl watched impassively. He picked at the bones of the carcass of whatever he’d killed the previous night. They’d tempted the man inside with his favorite dishes, but the dragon always turned up his nose and went off to hunt fresh meat.
From a window above, Corun spotted Chrysanthemum looking down at them. Her eyes were wide with horror as the two dragons clashed. Corun didn’t want her to see any of them like this. Out of control, blood-lusting, dangerous beasts.
Or maybe he did want her to see this side of him. She’d lost the look of fear in her eyes after he’d sated her with pleasure. She needed to know this was the alternative. This was the consequence of her desire.
Beryl crashed Ilia into the side of the castle just under Chrysanthemum’s window. He wrapped his arms around Ilia’s snout and rubbed the backs of his claws against his head. Effectively giving his little brother a noogie.
Ilia snarled with indignation, ripping into Beryl’s hide.
Chrysanthemum’s hand went to her belly. It was a self-conscious action. One that was probably a reflex to care for her own person. But it made a stone drop in Corun’s stomach.
The thought of her pregnant with his offspring woke his dragon. The beast flipped off its back and roared with unbridled desire. Once all air was gone, the dragon began to pant. It wanted to get back to her, to put a seed inside her, and watch it grow.
Corun felt the leash go taut, but the tug wasn’t on the dragon this time. It was pulling on the man, and he felt powerless against it.
He wanted to give her anythi
ng. A baby was what she wanted. But it was the one thing he couldn’t let her have.
Corun had an understanding of foster care from the Anne of Green Gables movies Cardi had them all watch. In the stories, little girls were all living in one room with no one to love and care for them. Finally, one girl, Anne with an E and red hair, gets adopted by an older couple.
Corun had adopted Chrysanthemum, in a sense. He would give her a dress with puffy sleeves if that would make her feel better. He would not give her a baby. If he did, their children would end up motherless. They would resent him for not protecting the woman that gave them life. Worse, they’d live with the constant shame that they’d caused their mother’s death.
That settled it. A puff-sleeved dress would be better. New clothes always appeased Cardi. Surely, the tactic would work for Chrysanthemum. She was a human woman, after all. He’d place an order with Morrigan for whatever Chrysanthemum wanted, no matter what the cost in gems.
Beryl and Ilia were calming down. They had drawn enough blood from one another for one day. Beryl shifted back into his male form. Blood covered his flesh. Ilia refused to shift. Instead, he lifted his battered body and flew off.
When Corun looked back up to her window, Chrysanthemum was gone.
Corun’s beast wanted him to go to her. She had to be upset at what she’d seen. But that was a good thing. He needed her to know the truth about her situation. He could soothe her a little later. His mateless brothers were in real pain.
“Little bastard,” growled Beryl.
The gash on his chest was open wide. It would take more than a day to close. Knowing his bodybuilding brother would not rest but return to the weight bench later, Corun knew he needed to take matters into his own hands.
“Come to the doorway with me,” said Corun. “It’ll heal you faster.”
Beryl grunted but didn’t disagree. They walked the distance to the breach in the Veil. Once upon a time, human sacrifices were delivered through this tear in the realms. Corun knew that the dragons’ mining activities shook loose gems in the mountains and valleys beyond the Veil. Morrigan had mentioned this particular doorway led to a place in the human world called California.
There was a concentration of energy inside the passageway. The dragons were forbidden to cross the breach on penalty of death. That penalty would be doled out by the Valkyrie enforcers who would hunt them down on the other side and slay them.
They weren't fooled enough to cross. They stopped just before the forbidden line. Enough energy seeped through the cracks that would speed up Beryl’s healing.
“What was that about?” asked Corun.
“I asked the black ball a question, and Ilia didn’t like the answer.”
Corun decided he didn’t need any more details. Fights were getting stupider and stupider. Anything could tick off his brothers. They needed something else to preoccupy their daily lives—like mates. Too bad none were forthcoming.
Beryl shut his eyes and lay his naked body down on the grass closer to the line than Corun was comfortable with. The sun shone down on them both as healing waves of energy wafted over them.
The Veil shimmered. The pale haze shifted from blue to golden. Beryl scrambled back as three Valkyries stepped out, hauling four human males.
The women were dressed in pale blue breastplates with golden epaulets. Dark braids flowed down Hilda’s back. She wore a perpetual the scowl on her face. Siggy, the golden-haired Valkyrie licked at her lower lip as she eyed the two shifters. Morrigan pulled up the rear.
“Dragons?” said Hilda, her scowl deepening. “You weren’t trying to go through to the other side, were you?”
“Just healing a wound.” Corun held up his hands in a submissive pose. “No rules against that.”
“Oh.” Hilda didn’t hide her disappointment.
Morrigan looked annoyed. Siggy looked down appreciatively at Beryl’s uncovered manhood.
Valkyries were bloodthirsty. Bloodthirsty and sexually frustrated like most dragons. Although they’d never lower themselves to sleep with a shifter. They’d been immaculately conceived by their mother, and most still had their mythical hymens intact.
Except one that Corun knew of. She was why the door beyond the Veil was closed to sacrifices.
“Trying to kill each other,” said Hilda. “Mother always said dragons didn’t have enough control to come in the next world. Truth be told, men don’t either. We’ve had to collect a dozen this weekend.”
“Election season clashed with the new fall television season,” said Siggy. “Morri needed some help when activity on casting couches overflowed into under table deals.”
“I didn’t need help,” grumbled Morrigan, shifting the man sack on her back. “I could’ve handled it.”
It was rare to see more than one Valkyrie come this way. For most of his life, Corun had only seen Morrigan coming and going through this particular doorway. But he knew of Hilda. Everyone did. She had been the one to decree that the doorways were closed for sacrifices.
“You don’t happen to have any women in there, do you?” asked Beryl.
Morrigan’s head popped up, her expression pinched. “We brought you, Cardi. Don’t go getting greedy. It’s not a good look.”
With the emphasis on Cardi’s name and the non-mention of Corun’s recent delivery, clearly, Morrigan didn’t want her sisters knowing about her recent exchange with Corun. Unfortunately, Beryl didn’t get the message.
“Name your price,” he said. “I’ll pay you your weight in jewels.”
That was a hefty sum. Valkyries weren’t small females. Siggy and Morrigan both raised a brow at the bargain.
“Sell humans?” scoffed Hilda, drawing her sword. “We castrate the men who do that. To even suggest such a thing.”
“Right,” said Morrigan. “It’s disgusting that you even suggest such a thing.” She emphasized the last words in her statement with a narrowed gaze that screamed for Beryl to shut it.
“It’s enough that one of your kind defiled one of my sisters,” spat Hilda.
“Well, it was her choice,” said Siggy. “She could slice off his little snake with her pinky finger if she no longer wants to be plugged. But I gather she prefers to wrap her whole hand around—”
“Siggy.” Hilda made gagging noises. “How could you even fathom such a thing?”
Siggy shrugged. Her gaze landing unabashedly on Beryl’s exposed package.
Beryl paid her interest no mind. Valkyries were infertile. Probably why they had no interest in sex.
Well, most of them anyway.
“No wonder your sacrifices had to be bound when they were brought to you,” said Hilda. “I would run back through the Veil, too, if I were a weak and simpering thing like a human.”
Too?
“Come on, sisters,” said Hilda. “We have to get these cretins to Valhalla before dark. I want to bathe their masculine scent off of me.”
After another long glare at Beryl, Hilda sheathed her sword. She whistled for their rides. Three brown dragons swooped down. The first two sisters started toward them. But Morrigan pulled up closer to Corun and Beryl.
“What did she mean when she said too?” asked Corun. “No human female has ever gone back through the Veil.”
Morrigan ignored Corun and focused on Beryl.
“Hey, B-boy,” she whispered. “Make me something big and sparkly, and I’ll see if I can find another one the next time I’m out.”
“You will?” said Beryl.
“Another what?” said Corun.
Morrigan plastered on a sweet smile. It was the same type of smile Beryl flashed Ilia when the older triplet knew something the younger one did not.
“Another sacrifice, of course,” she said.
“Earth is littered with women,” said Beryl. “Just grab the first one you see. I’m not picky.”
“Well, I am,” Morrigan hissed. She glanced over at her sisters and then back to the brothers. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’m sure I know your
type. I’ll find the right girl for you.”
The right girl? Corun wanted to question her choice of words. But Hilda whistled for Morrigan, and she was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
It was ironic. Chryssie, who had been in and out of hospitals her whole life, who had been poked and prodded and bled dry as she prepared her body to save her sister’s life, hated the sight of blood. The moment the dragons had drawn blood, she’d backed away from the window. It reminded her of her failure that she couldn’t save her sister. Because they’d had the same breath-stealing, body-numbing, soul-tiring disease.
Kids shouldn’t be born with a job. Chryssie had been employed before conception. And she’d failed.
As she walked down the warm halls, she took a deep breath, still marveling that she could. If only her sister had come to this place. Not only was Chryssie cured, but she was bound to a sexy dragon who made her toes curl, her blood boil, and her breath catch.
Best thing; if she got pregnant, her baby wouldn’t inherit her disease. He’d be born strong; a dragon.
But a dragon child would have the worst temper if Beryl and Ilia were any examples. They could smite a parent with fire for telling them no. Maybe it would be best if she didn’t have a kid with Corun.
Oh, but she wanted to have the kid. She at least wanted to try. A lot. She wanted more than Corun’s mouth on her. She wanted his everything on her, in her, beside her until she took her last breath.
Chryssie wrapped her arms around herself. As her shoulders hunched, she felt the string of gems at her neck. The rubies that Corun had given her were warm against her skin.
Her fingers slipped on the lycra bustier top with cones in the cups instead of padding. Down her fingers went until they met the tulle of a black skirt. Attached to the skirt were lacy leggings. All she needed was a Boy Toy belt to complete the Like a Virgin fashion statement. She’d left the boots behind and padded barefoot out of the room. No need to clash Material Girl and Kickass Heroine.
This ensemble was the best she could do. When she’d opened the closet doors in the bedroom, she found robes, pants, and shirts that clearly belonged to Corun. None of the garments fit her. Next to those were neatly arranged piles of lace tights, cutout dresses, and skirts. She knew that some parts of Europe were often catching up to the latest pop culture of the US. For goodness sake, David Hasselhoff was elevated to Elvis Presley status in Germany. Maybe the Veil was a few decades behind the rest of the world?