by Ophelia Bell
“God, I missed you,” she said into his ear. “How’s life treating you guys?” She pulled away and looked up into his face, then at Camille. “Where is Roka, anyway? You didn’t say why he didn’t come.”
Camille recited their scripted answer nonchalantly. “Kol needed his help with something, and when the boss calls, you don’t say no.” It was the perfect answer, particularly considering they had jumped at Erika’s call and were here now.
Camille followed Erika without a glance back at Eben. Before he could hoist his backpack onto his shoulders again, Geva had grabbed it and effortlessly slung it over his shoulder, draping his free arm across Eben’s shoulders.
“She looks a little tense, my friend, are you not satisfying her with the big guy gone? Come to that, you look tense. Maybe the two of you should come to the baths with us after you get settled in, unwind a bit before you get to work and get your issues out in the open.”
In spite of trying, Eben couldn’t hide the tension. Dragons were so goddamn perceptive it wasn’t funny. Now Geva was doing that thing he did with his tickling breath raising goose bumps on Eben’s neck and raising other parts of him in response. He chuckled and shook his head. “Man, are you persistent. I don’t think I can talk about it right now, though, and I doubt Camille wants to, either.”
Geva dropped his arm and shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you know where we’ll be. Erika’s been in the vaults all day. As much as I love the dusty, dirty version of her, getting her wet is always the highlight of my day. I’m sure you would agree?”
Eben would be hard pressed to forget how enthusiastic Erika had been when they were lovers, but at that moment a different visual popped into his head. Camille’s suntanned thighs spread wide in his mind’s eye, the dark golden fringe between them framing the glistening pink of the treasures therein. He was painfully aware of the fact that they hadn’t made love as frequently since the night before Roka had departed. Could he convince her to go join Erika and Geva tonight?
He found her in the sparsely furnished room they had been assigned, across the hall from Erika and Geva’s room. His gut tangled with conflict over how to even approach her now. There was nothing he could say at this stage to make her come around. They clearly wanted different things and that understanding tore him to pieces. He’d only just discovered how much he loved her and now she had pulled away. He just hoped it wasn’t an irrevocable distance that lingered between them.
Stripping down to his skin, he picked up the plain linen drawstring pants that were left for them to wear during their stay so they blended in better with the permanent residents. “I’m going up to the baths to join Erika and Geva before dinner. Want to come?”
Camille was busy brushing and rebraiding her mass of golden waves. She had already changed into her own Spartan underthings, the pants riding low on her hips and the round swell of her breasts pushing the split neck of the shirt wide. The loose robe that would cover everything hung on a hook nearby. She was going braless like she tended to do more often lately, the sight of her nipples pricking at the soft linen a tantalizing treat for his eyes to feast on.
She glanced at him, her gaze skimming down his naked body. Her eyes had that hungry look she would get whenever she was particularly horny. Eben wondered if Geva had gotten to her, too. The man did like to tease them with his breath, get them worked up and then sit back to see what they would do. Except she always gave him a look just like it whenever he took off his clothes. It was usually followed up with a sly smile, then some particularly lewd proposition would spill from her lips, the naughtiest and most arousing contradiction to her angelic features.
She didn’t say anything close to what he hoped to hear. She clenched her eyes shut and screwed up her face. “I don’t think so. I want to get to work for a bit. You go have fun.”
You go have fun. And what the hell did she mean by that? They were here to work, for one thing, but there was no reason to rush it, particularly since they had agreed to deliberately take their time with the research so that Roka and Rafe would have a good head start on finding Rafe’s lover.
Whether or not she meant for him to have the kind of fun he had hoped she’d join him for, he couldn’t be sure. He pondered her comment while padding barefoot along the stone paths that meandered around the lush, meticulously kept grounds of the Monastery.
The slightly citrusy aroma of the baths hit his nostrils long before he reached the cozy outbuilding. The squat, square structure was built of worn stone, smoothed by centuries of weather and use, and the lovely scented steam that billowed out the door only managed to remind him of their brief respite at the Monastery after they had completed the ritual and left the Temple months earlier. It had been the most relaxing session of lovemaking he’d ever had, with the aromatic herbs the monks added to the water, the heat that encompassed them, and the slow languid, fucking the three of them had engaged in for what had seemed like hours without stopping. He’d never felt so intimately bound to any other person as he had been to Camille and Roka during that afternoon. It almost felt sacrilegious to step into the baths without them, but he needed time to think.
Breath of Innocence: Chapter 4
Within a day, Roka was too far from Eben and Camille to pick up on their varying moods. The two dragons flew west into the night, timing each leg of their trip to pause at a remote, unpopulated location to rest. Rafe insisted on pushing forward even during daylight, particularly when they were approaching the coast of Africa.
“We can replenish at one of the villages on the coast,” Roka projected as they flew. “You need it worse than I do, brother.”
“We need to keep going. We already had to backtrack to catch any sign of her. I won’t stop until we see another.”
While they weren’t exactly hot on Rowan’s trail, they had seen signs of her stopping in a handful of locations, most of which were inactive volcanoes that were frequent waypoints for young dragons stretching their wings. They could fly for days at a stretch without rest, but Rafe’s energy reserves wouldn’t keep up with this pace for long. If he had mated soon after awakening in the temple, the regular infusions of energy from a partner would have allowed him to fly for a month or more with little rest, though it would severely deplete his energy. Roka preferred not to take the risk of not stopping, but his friend was adamant.
The temporary power link they had forged for the trip enhanced their tracking abilities, and also gave Roka a strong sense of how quickly Rafe’s power began to dwindle as their trip progressed. He almost hoped his friend didn’t sense the shimmering trail of a female dragon’s power he could see as clear as a shaft of sunlight ahead of them.
Rafe let out an excited roar and began to fly faster. “A fresh trail. It must be hers!” He banked to the left and dipped lower in the sky, hurtling downward for several hundred yards before leveling off again and soaring forward on an invisible current of air.
Roka sped up to follow. They would have to teach her to cover her tracks once they found her, but the intensity of the energy she’d left behind signaled that they were getting closer. The wind whipped past him as he descended to catch up with Rafe.
Miles ahead, the majestic white monolith of another dormant volcano lay, holding court over the lush green of a vast jungle. He remembered this place vividly from his own youth. It was the pinnacle of the African landscape, and served as a beacon to adolescent dragons on their quests for independence after learning to fly. He hoped Rafe’s Red would be here so he could return to his mates. The distance from Camille and Eben left a void inside that was more than just his depleted energy reserves. He still had enough energy from them to last him several more weeks, but that wouldn’t preserve his mood any if Rafe continued with such single-minded and obdurate persistence.
Kilimanjaro loomed closer with each strong stroke of Roka’s wings, and the magic grew stronger. It was as distinct a signature as if they had found her footp
rints, particularly since it was the most prominent trail. It had been centuries since Roka’s generation had traveled these skies. While he could pick up faint remnants of those long ago trips, they had faded to a ghost of their original potency. Rowan’s magic was impossible for them to miss.
Rafe picked up his pace and Roka surged ahead to stay even with his friend. When the deep, shadowed circle of the volcano’s dark caldera came into view, Rafe began to descend, carving a wide arc around and circling in a spiral closer to the ground with each circuit. There was no sign of their quarry aside from the potent residue of her magic glimmering in ethereal streams and undulating waves in mid-air. As Roka got closer, he could see the depressions of taloned footprints in the snow below them. Rafe followed the visible trail, skimming along only a few dozen yards above the ground, but Roka knew they had missed her yet again. Hopefully only by a brief interval this time. At least they were at a good place to rest before they pushed on, and there were small villages below the mountain where the pair could replenish their energy.
Roka landed heavily, the powdery snow puffing up around him. It was nearly dusk, so they would have to wait a bit longer before descending down to the level of human view.
Rafe, however, stalked around the area in frustration. He nosed at the deepest depression at the end of the trail of footprints and growled. Rowan had clearly taken off from that point to fly again.
“She’s only a few days ahead of us, friend. We will catch her soon. Rest for a moment and then we can head into the jungle for some respite and to refill your reserves.”
“I told you I will not stop until we find her!”
“You told me you would stop when we saw another sign of her. This is that sign. You will kill yourself if you don’t rest and replenish.”
“You don’t need to follow me now that I have a clear, fresh trail.”
Roka watched in astonishment as Rafe swished his tail around and leapt into the sky again, his wings quivering with the effort. He doubted his friend even had enough magic left in his reserves to shift if he wanted to, which wouldn’t do if he fell unconscious in a populated area. The villages below the mountain were long known to be bonded to lower ranking local dragons, and since Africa was technically part of Roka’s territory, he could visit them when in need. They had need now, but Rafe wasn’t seeing reason. He would need to be able to shift before entering the villages. The indigenous peoples’ legends spoke of occasional visits by magical people from the mountain. However, if they showed up in their true forms they would likely terrify the people.
With a burst of energy, Roka surged into the sky, angry at his friend’s stubbornness. He easily caught up to Rafe and gripped him by the tail with one large taloned foreclaw. Rafe faltered, but kept going.
“You are a fool. If you don’t stop, you’re going to force ME to take care of you. Trust me, I still have the strength to pin you down and give you what you need, whether you like it or not.”
He had hoped it wouldn’t come to threats. It would have been preferable for them to replenish their reserves from several willing humans, but sharing their own Nirvanas would serve the same purpose. The disadvantage of that scenario would be leaving a stronger signature behind, something Shadows and Guardians both were trained not to do. Plus, the magic that seeped through them from the ether during their climaxes would leave them both marked with traces of each other. Rafe was his friend, and while that level of intimacy between dragons was not unheard of, it could affect the balance of power in the dragon hierarchy. But he was a Court dragon and technically Rafe’s superior.
He had been careful not to touch Rafe during their encounter on the yacht, allowing Eben and Camille to provide him with the energy Rafe needed. The only dragon they all had no hesitation about coupling with was the Catalyst, but Kris was the anomaly among dragons. He absorbed, and only gave when it was absolutely necessary. Other dragons only had sparse control over how much energy they could keep back.
Roka had no compunctions against asserting his rank. He would give all his energy to Rafe if he had to, and likely some of it would be pulled from the lingering magic Rafe’s lover had left behind on this mountaintop. He clamped another talon on Rafe’s hind leg.
The Shadow roared in indignation and banked in the air, turning and battering his wings hard against Roka to get him to let go. His tail and leg twisted in Roka’s grasp. Roka released him but only so he could quickly clasp his talons around Rafe’s black-scaled foreclaws. With white wings flapping to keep him airborne, he hooked his legs around Rafe’s and swiped his tail around to hold his friend against him by the waist. He clamped his jaw down on Rafe’s neck hard enough to bruise and immobilize, but not hard enough to puncture the dragon’s nearly impenetrable scaled hide. The sharp contact with the pressure point rendered Rafe unable to fly, his wings going slack. Roka beat his wings harder to keep them from plummeting to the ground and lowered them both slowly to the deep bed of snow in the crater below them.
“Take it because you need it,” Roka said, tickling the back of Rafe’s neck with his tongue.
Rafe groaned at the contact with the erogenous pressure point Roka’s teeth and tongue were assaulting—a spot it was only accepted for a high-ranking dragon to use to assert dominion over one of lower rank.
Roka was already primed himself, the anticipation and his own need rising in him at the contact with the black dragon and the taste of Rafe’s growing submission against his tongue. He had never coupled in full dragon form before and the novelty of it aroused him further.
Rafe’s black wings splayed against the snow and Roka pressed against him. Roka’s erection blazed between them, the full length of it emerging from its protective scaled sheathe between his thighs.
“Sweet Mother, you don’t actually mean to fuck me, do you?” Rafe’s eyes widened as he struggled in Roka’s grasp.
“If you don’t let me, I’ll sit on top of you and give it to you like this.” Roka shifted his hips back and rubbed his thick length between Rafe’s scaled thighs. The soft, hot friction sent an electric tingle through his cock and into his groin. He stroked again, closer to the seam that marked the opening of the pouch where Rafe’s cock hid. The bulge swelled slightly and Rafe groaned.
Rafe twisted his hips away, his rear talons clawing ineffectually at Roka’s thighs. Abruptly, the figure beneath Roka shimmered and shrank.
So Rafe did have enough energy to shift after all.
Roka lost his grip on Rafe’s human form, but only for an instant. He, too, shifted, more quickly and smoothly than Rafe had. The dark-haired Shadow stumbled and fell to his knees, his human body appeared strong enough, but shook from the effort of the change. He wasn’t quite as bad off as he had been that night when he had arrived unannounced on their boat, too depleted to maintain his human form for long if they hadn’t helped him. He clearly wasn’t far from that point now, though. His skin still shimmered darkly with the mirage of scales trying to emerge again.
Rafe hung his head, clutching snow into his fists. He appeared to be shivering, but Roka knew it wasn’t from cold. In spite of them both being stark naked, extreme temperatures had no effect on them in either form.
“You know what will happen if we don’t do this,” Roka said. “Your baser urges will take over, you will go insane, your dragon instincts compelling you to devour any living thing that crosses your path just for sustenance. Occasionally you will want to fuck, but only helpless human virgins will be able to satisfy you and there are far too few of those in this world we live in now. You will seek dominion over humanity and you will destroy everything our race has worked for over the last few millennia. Why are you being such a fool?”
“I will die without her anyway.”
“But will you let yourself die before you even find her? We will find her, I can promise you that. Let me help you so you can keep going. Once you are past this we are going down the mountain to f
ind a better source.”
For the first time Roka regretted not asking Camille and Eben to come with them. At the very least, they would have had willing and available partners to keep the dragons going, even if it meant carrying more supplies.
Rafe sat back on his heels, arms hanging limply at his sides. Roka stood before him, looking down in sympathy at the pleading look his friend gave him.
“Help me, please,” Rafe whispered.
Roka knelt in front of his friend and reached for him. Rafe let himself be pulled into the guardian’s embrace and wrapped his arms around Roka in desperation. The intensity with which Rafe surrendered was nearly heartbreaking in its contrast to his resistance a moment earlier. Rafe’s hot, soft mouth sought out Roka’s, Rafe’s hands reaching up to tangle in Roka’s long, sleek hair. Roka gasped at the invasion of tongue and the clash of their teeth. His cock surged back to life and he groaned when Rafe gripped it tightly, stroking insistently. Rushing would do neither of them any good, however. The more they let the well of magic build up before releasing their Nirvana, the more energy the other would have access to. Not to mention, the more pleasurable the experience would be.
“Slow down,” Roka whispered, pulling Rafe’s hand away from his cock. “You want to be strong when we find her, don’t you?”
“I need a taste now,” Rafe growled. “I’m losing it.” His skin shimmered with the emergence of obsidian scales that didn’t subside, and shimmering black horns coiled up from his brow, their shine reflecting the blood-red of the sunset so vividly Roka almost wondered if his friend had spontaneously changed colors.
Roka pushed him back down to the ground and followed, sliding his tongue between Rafe’s lips in a promise of what was to come.
“I will take care of you,” Roka said, sliding down Rafe’s body, the wet trail of his tongue turning to crackling ice as he went. The snow beneath them had melted and frozen again, leaving them in a slippery depression. Roka dug his toes in for purchase, like it was sand on a beach, and took Rafe fully into his mouth. At the same time, Roka gripped his own cock and stroked, his rising need acting as a magnet to the residual magic in the air. There was always more of it, the trails of invisible power a web that linked them all to their origin. To The Mother, wherever she existed. The power was doled out in strictly governed rations by the Council, who acted as conduits between Her infinite power and the rest of the race. He couldn’t think about those lingering issues now, however. He focused on simply absorbing what he could to give it to his friend tonight.