Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter

Home > Other > Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter > Page 40
Bound By Heat - Dragon Shifter Page 40

by M. K Eidem et all


  Ry held his breath as he waited for his friend’s response even as he strained to find her along the mate connection. To his horror he reached only empty space where once Dara’s presence had shined like a beacon.

  “She was outside earlier. With Van as you ordered.”

  “The rogue is attacking.” The roar barely cleared Ry’s throat before another scream pierced his heart.

  Dara was dying. Ry could feel it in his soul. When Dara took her last breath, Ry would cease to live, because he’d bonded himself to her, not wanting her to suffer Miram’s fate.

  Rylin burst through the door and tore down the stairs. When he cleared the front, he shifted, wings spread and took to the skies.

  His fellow Dracol trumpeted behind him. Mikal, no doubt. Ry didn’t have to go far. He scanned the grounds and his eyes immediately went to the crumpled form of his lira. Van was inches away, blood soaking the area between them.

  Ry landed in human form, the shift seamless in his effort to get to Dara. Her shirt bore a tear down the back, a long wicked scar carved into her flesh. The stalker had marked her, but unlike the other females he’d attacked, Dara still breathed.

  “Dara,” her name broke from his numb lips. Ry dropped to his knees beside her. He reached for their mating connection, a place he usually accessed with ease.

  ‘Dara. Answer me, lira.’

  “I believe the end game has finally arrived.”

  The new voice came from behind him. Ry’s head jerked around. “Ranald!”

  A maniacal laugh. “You thought you were so smart because you bear the mantle.”

  “Why would you do this?” He pushed to his feet to meet the threat.

  Mikal was around somewhere. They’d been together. He would watch over Dara.

  “Nothing can stop me.” The rogue swung without warning.

  Armored scales plated over Ry’s chest and absorbed the blow. “Are you crazed, Ranald? Cease this madness.”

  Ranald grinned, blood dripping from his elongated teeth. “There is no madness in me, King Rylin, only freedom. Finally my essence is free to be what all Dracol are meant to be.”

  Ry danced back, dodging the swipe of Ranald’s claws. “Frenzied killers? Dracol are protectors. Honorable to the Goddess of Fate.”

  The glow in Ranald’s amber eyes burned brighter. There’d be no reasoning with him. “There is no Goddess, you fool. No Fate. Only the powerful shall rule and I am powerful. I will rule the Black into greatness.”

  “How did you fool everyone? None of the Kings suspected. I gave you my trust.”

  “More’s the pity.” The smile stretching Ranald’s lips only enhanced the features of the handsome man.

  Evil should appear wicked. Hideous. But no, Ry wouldn’t have guessed this male would turn killer. He growled, the sound rolling from deep in his throat.

  “Give up the mantle and I might let you live,” Ranald ordered.

  Even if such were possible, Ry wouldn’t have agreed. Fire coursed through his veins. “You’re a disgrace to the Black.”

  “I am meant to be a King!” With those words, Ranald shifted into the hulking form of his black Dracol, tail lashing out behind him.

  Fear for Dara drove Rylin’s shift. His essence rose and met the rippling currents of the mantle. The combined energy swept through him and his Dracol landed on clawed feet with a roar, swiping at Ranald’s snarling jaw.

  The lumbering beast fell back.

  More of his people arrived, landing with thunderous footsteps. Roars and snarls burst forth as the identity of the killer stalking them spread.

  Ranald’s long, sinuous neck moved, his amber stare promising death as spurts of fire escaped his parted jaw. Ranald charged and Ry used his fire to blaze a path. The flames couldn’t harm those of his sect but the delay gave him the needed time to distract.

  ‘Stay back!’ Ry blasted the command through the mantle as he launched into the air and took flight. It was too late. Females, those who were mated, collapsed to the ground like toys with their string cut. Ranald was messing with their minds. Male Dracols roared out a challenge as their liras fell. Bodies littered the grass.

  But life pulsed within. The mantle reassured him the connection still existed. Ranald hadn’t killed them. Probably couldn’t. No, Ranald’s ability lay in his skill to somehow block the mating connection so he could do the terrible deed by hand.

  “It stops now!” Ry shouted.

  “It’s only begun, my king.”

  The connection between them made Ry ill. It shouldn’t have been possible to establish telepathic contact, but Ranald whatever drove him to kill must have developed as a mutation. It was the only explanation for his growing madness.

  Ry whipped out his tail, striking Ranald along his side. The Dracol hissed, shooting flames in his direction. Ry rolled and soared over Ranald. Their bodies collided as Ry clawed at his enemy. Partially submerged beneath the essence of his Dracol, he brought all of his strength forth to battle.

  Pain lashed at him from the blows Ranald landed. They grappled, rolling head over tail. Ry thought of Dara, unconscious and blocked from him.

  ‘What did you do to my lira?’

  Ranald laughed in triumph and reared back. Ry released him and flapped his wings, dodging the claw aimed for his face.

  ‘I only had a little taste.’ Ranald’s tongue licked around his scaled mouth, sharp teeth flashing.

  Rage exploded. Ry flew toward him. He bit and raked at Ranald’s vulnerable belly. The mantle poured more power through him and Ry’s jaw locked around Ranald’s throat. ‘You chose the wrong one.’

  With one snap, he broke Ranald’s neck and let go. The Dracol tumbled to the ground and hit several trees before an extended branch pierced his hide. The body of the raptor jerked, the deadly fall stopped, but Ry didn’t care.

  He arrowed his wings and sped back to his mate.

  ‘Dara!’

  Mikal, Quinn, and Nolan provided a protective circle around her. Ry stumbled to his feet, not bothering to cover his nudity as he crouched over her.

  ‘Dara, please.’ Ry reached long the mate connection, searching for any sign she wasn’t too far gone. He stretched his senses, breath held until a spark flickered. ‘Dara?’

  Thick lashes fluttered and the most beautiful sight greeted him when she opened her green eyes. “Did you get him?”

  Ry gathered her close, tears burning his throat. “I got him.”

  Epilogue

  Ry awoke with a jerk, his heart thudding against his chest. Just a dream, he thought, remembering Ranald’s attack. Fear surged through him and fed his need to confirm Dara’s safety. The mantle pulled at his essence and his arousal burned a path of awareness between him and the woman asleep in his arms.

  Ry nipped at her exposed shoulder. She twitched but didn’t awaken. He eased down in the bed, taking the covers with him. His shirt twisted about her hips and the glimpse of her dark curls pushed him closer to the edge.

  His thumb parted the plump folds, his eyes on her face. Dara moaned, widening her legs. Ry muffled his chuckle and stroked until moisture soaked his finger. He swirled the tip in the wet streaks leaking on her inner thighs and bumped his knuckles against her mound.

  Dara rolled onto her back, lids lifting slowly. “Rylin?”

  When he placed his finger at her tight rear entrance and prodded, she woke fully. Back and forth he teased the puckered hole, then slid inside. Inner muscles clamped down as Dara cried out, hands thrashing as she sought a hold. He plunged deeper and deeper, his thumb flicking over her clit at the same time.

  When her breath quickened, Ry pulled back. He squeezed her rear and lifted Dara over him as he eased between the wetness seeping from her. Green eyes glazed with passion watched as she took him inch by inch. Ry laid back as she grinded on his lap, her body begging for relief. Her head tilted back on her shoulders and he gripped her hips in a firm hold, balancing her delicate weight.

  Dara rocked atop him, moaning non-stop. Ry
cupped her rounded butt cheeks, slamming her down harder and harder. She writhed and twisted, nonsense words falling from her mouth. Stomach churning, Ry stayed with her, pumping into her burning center. His essence and the mantle merged, building the intensity.

  “Deeper. Want you deeper,” she whimpered.

  He didn’t want to hurt her, but Ry could feel his need rising to match her own. “Mine. My lira.”

  She braced her hands by his head and screamed as the pleasure grabbed a hold, and the force of her climax pulled him under. Ry shouted and flipped them, placing her on her back as he pounded into her again and again. Then to his amazement, his essence with the power of the mantle overwhelmed, bringing a gift he never expected. Ancient words fell from his lips as the second orgasm blasted forward, his vision going gray.

  ***

  Rylin murmured lyrical phrases in her ear. Words she didn’t understand but the meaning didn’t matter because the intent couldn’t be missed. He whispered of reassurance. Safety. And the last emotion that would have been hard for Dara to miss. His arms clenched tight as his hips pumped. He whispered of love.

  Dara couldn’t catch her breath. “Rylin?”

  His eyes rolled in his head, scaring her. Fire shot from his chest to hers. Dara screamed, but they were still joined, connected below.

  “Calm,” he panted, head bowed. “Calm , Dara.”

  Tuning out the fact that she was on fire, Dara stopped struggling. The flames danced over the surface of her skin. “What the…?”

  “Shhh,” Ry caressed her arms, shoulders. “It’s part of my essence.”

  Orange flickers swirled over her torso, hovering around her middle then blinked out. Only her hands retained the bright orange glow. To her amazement, there’d been no heat or burning sensation from the mini-blaze as it spread over her body.

  “That was incredible,” she managed, reeling from the explosive end to their lovemaking.

  Ry exhaled in relief and slumped to the side, his shaft sliding free. “I didn’t stop to think how it might unnerve you. It doesn’t always happen but it’s a sign my Dracol wishes to be fertile with you.”

  Dara sat straight up. “Fertile! Like have a baby fertile?”

  A frown creased his brow. “Yes. Fate may have blessed us with a child tonight.”

  Her palm dropped to her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

  His mouth turned down at the corners. “Pregnant?”

  “Am I going to have a baby?” she clarified.

  “Ahh,” he grinned. “If the shell sparked with life then yes.”

  Shell? That didn’t make any sense to Dara. She also realized they didn’t speak of birth control and the brochure from the Singles program didn’t mention the reproduction process at all. “We should probably talk about kids in the future or if we want to wait.”

  Ry slowly sat up next to her. “Dara, I think you’re confused. Dracol don’t control the joy of life. The fates decide and if my essence rises strong enough a shell will protect our child until its birth.”

  “Whoa!” Suddenly she wasn’t liking the direction this was taking. “I think we need to start at the beginning. How exactly are babies made?”

  His grin grew wicked. “We have sex.” He leaned in and kissed her neck. “We enjoy the pleasure of the flesh.” His hands joined the fun and stroked over her budding nipples. “If my essence rises, the flames kiss your flesh and the Goddess of Fate blesses the shell.”

  Desire gathered between her thighs, but this conversation was too important to let him distract her. “Tiny bit more clarification needed. Where exactly is this shell?”

  “In the lower levels of the castle. All shells are kept there for safe keeping.”

  “What!”

  ***

  Dara didn’t let him rest after he explained how the Dracol made babies. Ry dragged on his clothes at her insistence, waiting while she dressed in pants, still wearing his shirt. He led her to the basement, all thoughts of more sex pushed to the back of his mind.

  She hastened the trip by skipping down the stone stairs of the lower level, barely noticing the guards stationed in this protective area. No King would leave shells without a sentry posted.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this,” she mumbled.

  Ry waved his hand, lighting the torches mounted on the wall. “Dara, you should let me tell you the rest.”

  She didn’t slow her pace. “Where?”

  He pointed at the door to their right and tried to stop her, but Dara shoved it open and ran in. She squealed, drawing the attention of the guards. Ry waved them back and hurried inside.

  “Forty babies?” Dara gasped from the other side of the room.

  “No,” Ry snorted, “and we can thank the Goddess for that. This is where all the shells are kept for the Black Dracol.”

  Her brow crinkled. “But you said?”

  How many had she touched, Ry wondered, eyes straining. One, two…

  “Rylin?”

  His head jerked around to face her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile no longer bright. “Did I do something?”

  He exhaled and gripped the back of his neck. Five. She’d touched five, and he could tell three didn’t share the golden luster of the other two.

  “Dara, Dracols reproduce in a different manner.”

  Her lips pursed. “You told me that. We created energy. Our essence combined to cause fertility.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “And our energy made a baby.”

  Ry pointed to the brightly glowing egg in the far corner.

  Dara glanced over her shoulder. “The shining light means something.”

  He nodded. “It symbolizes which shell will hold our little one until he’s safely born.”

  Her brow arched. “He?”

  Ry chuckled. “Or she.”

  “Ok, glowing means baby.” Her gaze traveled around the room, every inch of the space was taken up by waist high oval shells presented from the Goddess. Ry waited for Dara to piece it together. “Wait, there are f-five.”

  And that was a problem. With what he’d learned of her human ways, she would not accept his next words easily. “Just the one will survive.”

  Her face drained of color and Ry stepped forward to hold her, but she pulled away. “Why would you say that?”

  He lifted the hand he still gripped. Her palm no longer glowed. “It’s not wise for a female to touch any of the shells after mating has generated sufficient essence for conception.”

  He struggled to find words she’d understand. “There’s not enough to…fertilize more than one living Dracol baby.”

  “Noo. There’s five.”

  He cupped her cheek. “It’s a sign of how strong our mating was that you carried my essence within you.” Any other time Ry would be filled with pride. He’d wished and prayed for this during his time with Sana. “Usually it would have faded the moment we reached release. One shell carrying new life would have been created.”

  It dawned on her at last. “But I touched them. It’s my fault.”

  Ignoring her protest, Ry gathered her close to his chest. “It’s not you fault. It will be alright. In the next few days I will have someone remove the failed eggs.”

  She stiffened and peered up at him. “Wait! They can’t get rid of them. Our babies, Rylin.”

  His hand stroked down her back. “They will not survive. In a few days the glow will fade, meaning the life did not sustain.”

  “What can we do? What can I do?”

  He pressed her head to his chest unable to face her heartbreak. “It is in the hands of the Goddess of Fate.”

  ***

  The next morning Ry woke alone. He questioned a guard who directed him to the lower level. Heart pounding, Ry raced to the room where the shells were kept. He burst through the door and came to an abrupt halt. Only the nulls remained. The five Dara had accidently fertilized were missing.

  His gaze hit the corner of the room where the viable shell had
rested. The child he and Dara created was gone. Smoke coiled from Ry’s nostrils, scales rolling over his arms and shoulders. He left the room, closing the door behind him, and confronted the guard.

  “My lira. Where?”

  Cloaked in the power of the mantle, Ry knew he was a sight. Quinn didn’t stutter. “In the next room, King Rylin.”

  Ry opened the door to a room typically used for storage and stopped as soon as he crossed the threshold. Dara sat on a pillow on the floor surrounded by five three foot high eggs. It was easy to identify the child they’d made with the blessing of Fate. The brilliance of the shell cast a bright light of its own on the stone walls, compared to the other four which were dull.

  “Rylin!”

  He entered and locked the door behind him, keeping out the prying eyes of others. His back slumped against the frame in relief as he gave his heart a chance to slow. “Why are you here, Dara?”

  “These are our children. It’s my fault I created them and they’re going to live.”

  “Dara.” She broke his heart with her fierce declaration. “No one’s ever fertilized more than one Dracol baby. Raptors require a lot of energy in gestation. There isn’t enough to sustain them.”

  “I don’t need energy,” she snapped, turning her back on him and caressing the shell nearest her. “I have love. Enough love for all of them, Rylin.”

  He wanted to protest. What she wanted had never been done before but he couldn’t refuse her. Besides, in a few days she’d see the truth of his words when the shells failed. They’d mourn the loss of their potential children together. “Very well. You love them.”

  “And you?” she asked in a low voice, her head down.

  Ry smiled and knelt at her side. She lifted tear drenched eyes to him. “And I will love them as well.”

  He stretched his arm out and touched the closest of the five he’d made with this amazing female who’d captured his heart. The shell pulsed with life and Ry sensed the Dracol within. His chest burned and he swallowed passed the lump in his throat. He concentrated and imbued a small amount of his energy from the mantle to the baby resting inside. A reciprocal spark startled him enough to drop his hand.

 

‹ Prev