by Zoey Ellis
She humped her hips onto him, rolling them to press herself closer. The man growled again, breaking the kiss to lower his lips to her sensitive neck. I’mya’s toes curled and she shuddered as he kissed and nibbled and licked down her neck. There was something about that action that was too intimate, too precious. The neck was not supposed to be an area that a random stranger should be allowed access to, but the niggling thought had no effect. I’mya simply could not heed the warning when it felt so good.
The young girl twirled, the skirt of her pale green dress floating around her, rippling as she twirled. “Look at me!” she squealed. “Look at me, I’mya!”
The man with black curls was angry. “This is the danger they are to the Twin Realms, to the Dominions. They need to be stopped!”
The highest window at the top of the tower gave the best view of the city, broken and desolate as it was. From there, the extent of the ember could be seen from miles, and the rotten tang of magic was strongest.
The hot mouth closed on her nipple and I’mya’s attention was drawn away from the memories snapping through her mind. She moaned, her fingers sinking into the man’s tousled hair. He kissed down her stomach, swirling his tongue around her belly button before continuing down between her legs, hooking her knees over his shoulders as he knelt and buried his face between her legs and inhaled with another appreciative rumble.
I’mya felt like she was in a dream. Magic floated her in the air with no other support, coursed through her as if she were made from it, connected her wholly, giving her access to the knowledge she needed to escape, but the pleasure he was providing overwhelmed and distracted her. She couldn’t concentrate. Her back arched as the man lapped her folds, licking and nipping on her with a fervor that made her spread her legs and hump into his face. A thick digit entered her, and exquisitely wicked sensations careened through her body. She moaned as he captured a bundle of pleasure within her folds and caressed it with his tongue. A volatile crescendo built so swiftly, she almost didn’t have time to catch her breath before it cascaded over her, staggered through her body as she convulsed uncontrollably.
The tension slowly released from I’mya’s body as she descended, unable to cease twitching as the man administered the last few licks along her dripping slit, ensuring to carefully harass her sensitive bundle. When he moved and got to his feet, she eyed him warily. This was not a good position to be in, yet she couldn’t say she hadn’t encouraged it. There was no doubt what was about to happen now.
The man’s eyes were heavy on her as he reached for his pants, unbuckling himself as she hung in midair. I’mya couldn’t deny there was something extremely appealing about the way he moved. And his glistening beard and mouth almost had her spreading her knees and begging him to return between them. It was utterly pleasing to see the evidence of her pleasure on him.
I’mya caught the thought and pushed it away sharply, annoyed with herself. Why would she think that? This should not have happened. She was supposed to be explaining to him that she wasn’t supposed to be here! She had to correct this situation, but couldn’t find the words to begin. What was she supposed to say?
Just as she opened her mouth, an ear-splitting screech came from outside the opening. The giant man froze and shot a look toward the opening, a scowl forming on his face.
A loud, animalistic shriek came again, followed by another different one, and then the two blared at the same time.
“Nyro!” The word roared like a command from a deep voice outside the opening.
The man growled as he stalked to the edge.
I’mya glimpsed a dark flash shoot across the expanse followed by another.
The man leaned out and bellowed out over the mountain range, though it wasn’t clear whom he was bellowing at or what he said.
I’mya took a deep breath, calming herself as she wiggled her limbs, trying to get them back under her control.
“Do you think we are safe here, I’mya?” The girl, huddled under a tatty blanket, looked up at her with large brown eyes.
“Of course we are,” I’mya responded firmly. “I will always keep you safe. You know that.”
The girl was silent for a moment. “You can’t control everything that happens,” she said quietly. “What if we are separated?”
“Then I will find you,” I’mya said firmly. “I will always protect you, I’yala. That is my job.”
The determination from the memory seeped into her bones as it faded, and I’mya breathed heavily. Who was that little girl? There was no doubt she was someone important, someone she loved deeply—she could feel it from the memories.
Suddenly I’mya realized her feet were on the floor, the magic no longer held her in the air. In fact, it was fading from her body as was the connection she had to everything around her.
The enormous man still bellowed out into the opening, but then suddenly turned back to her and barked out a couple of words, his eyes blazing with anger.
Then he jumped.
I’mya gasped, taking a step closer to the outside, but within a few moments, the dragon rose up, sailing out over the mountain range with the man standing firm on its back.
I’mya didn’t hesitate. Turning on her heel, she ran back out into the corridor as fast as she could. She didn’t know where she was going, but at this point, it didn’t matter; getting away was more important.
She ran through corridors she didn’t recognize, looking for another fissure in the mountain lair that could be a way out, but as the magic finally faded from her body, her exhaustion returned tenfold. And she collapsed again, this time falling into complete darkness.
2
“What the fuck are you doing on my range, Zendyor!”
Nyro wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from ripping his brother to shreds at that moment. Luckily, their other brother Tyomar was there to attempt to smooth things over. He flew alongside Nyro on his own dan askha, separating him and Zendyor.
“He just wants to talk to you about a territory matter,” Tyomar called. “I told you already.”
“I was busy!” Nyro bellowed. “You interrupted me at a crucial moment!” He steadied himself on Sanderyll’s back, adjusting for the angle the creature was making toward the mountain range they were now all heading to. Once on the back of his dragon, it was too much trouble to try to redirect him back to the mountain.
“Since when have you been doing anything important for the last few centuries?” Zendyor shouted from the other side of Tyomar. “All you do is eat, sleep, fuck, and hunt!”
“Exactly,” Nyro shot back. “I am always busy, and any time you attempt to speak to me about your delusions, you are fucking up my day.”
Sanderyll shot forward, twisting slightly as he inched ahead of the other dragons. There was no doubt he could feel Nyro’s annoyance, just like Nyro could feel his emotions when they were strong.
“We had a clan meeting, as well,” Tyomar called. “I was coming to get you.”
“And you would have waited,” Nyro bellowed back. “There is no reason for any of my kin to be on my mountain range unless we are hunting together. This was established a long time ago.”
The rapid winds prevented his brothers from responding to him, which suited Nyro just fine. He doubted he could stop himself from attacking them if they continued to talk.
He’d just had to drag himself away from the most intriguing female he’d encountered in a long time to deal with his brothers’ trespassing. It wasn’t as if the law was new—it had been an agreement they had all made with each other from when they were toddlers establishing their claim on the Twin Realms. No one trespassed on another’s range. The fact that his brother did so with such ease, and over petty issues, caused him to miss out on what he knew would have been the fuck of his life; it infuriated him beyond measure. If that woman was not in the exact spot she’d been in when he left, he might have to fight Zen just on the principle of it. For now, he had her taste on his tongue to settle him.
/> As they rounded the largest mountain in the range they’d traveled to, the winds suddenly dropped away.
Nyro chanted out an incantation and then jumped off his dragon. Magic came to his aid, providing support under his feet as he glided toward the entrance of the mountain.
As soon as they landed, Zendyor once again had to continue being his infuriating self. “That’s not the only thing that was established centuries ago,” his brother said. “I told you to never take what is mine.” His eyes flashed, his arms tensed, and his jaw was hard. But this wasn’t unusual for Zendyor. The man was a hothead, constantly angry and furious about everything. Nyro ignored him most of the time, especially because there wasn’t much he cared about that would incite his anger—except this time.
“I do not have anything that is yours,” Nyro said. “You know the law; anyone found on my range belongs to me. Anyone found on your range belongs to you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
“She was on my land first,” Zendyor roared. “She traveled through my range to get to yours.”
Nyro slowed to a stop and turned to face his brother. He couldn’t possibly be talking about that walnut-haired, tawny-skinned beauty who he’d just had his mouth on, could he? Because if it was, they would certainly battle. “Who do you mean?” He turned to face his brother, watching him closely for his reaction.
“The female,” Zendyor said. “She traveled through my range and then was picked up in yours, probably to become one of your fuck women.”
“We do not pick up random women,” Nyro said, even though the woman’s protest that she did not belong to his lair rang fresh in his mind. “There is a selection process. If she was supposed to be joining my lair, then she was always mine and you cannot lay claim.”
Zendyor glowered, looking ready to draw fire, and Nyro was ready for him, but Tyomar, peacemaker that he was, stepped between them. “We will discuss this at the clan table,” he said calmly. “It will get resolved.”
“It had better,” Zendyor bellowed. “I’m tired of his shit. He can barely give any thought to any Vattoro matters, but he wants to use our laws to hold on to that which does not belong to him!”
Nyro ignored them both and stalked into the meeting room, hoping that it would be quick this time. For some reason, his brothers insisted on these pointless clan meetings—a waste of his time when he could be doing plenty of other things that brought him great pleasure and satisfaction. All they did during these meetings was talk in circles about things they could not change but, as Tyomar repeatedly pointed out to him, it was part of his duty.
“I see the last of us is here,” Sethorn, another one of their brothers, greeted dryly.
“Can we make this quick?” Nyro said, throwing himself down into a chair. “I have things to do.”
No one bothered to respond to him. He was well aware that this meeting would take as long as necessary, and that even though he chose not to partake in all of their plans, he had to attend. Each time he arrived at these meetings, he cursed himself that he’d agreed to this madness. As the last remaining alphas of their kind, he should have the right to live his life as he pleased. Attending meetings about futile topics was not one of the things that pleased him.
Of course Khyros, the eldest, was already seated and waiting for them—they were in his mountain range, after all. Wide and imposing, he watched everyone in the room and was the most serious and secretive of them all. Usually he only spoke when there was something vitally important to discuss, but he was the head of the clan and the one who insisted on these meetings. Nyro understood why. Khyros was suffering a great deal, and it was the only reason why Nyro made any effort at all.
The Vattoro temple looked as it always did. Decorated in six colors, which represented their clan, it honored the history and legend of their ancestors. The huge rectangular stone table in the center of the hall had chairs for the brothers on each side with Khyros seated on a raised platform at the end of the table. As head of the clan, it was as it should be.
Zendyor stalked in and sat directly opposite Nyro, glaring at him as he leaned back in his chair. Nyro glared back at him, daring him to do something, but recognizing that as highly territorial beings, they were both experiencing something familiar. This wasn’t new behavior for any of them. Last time, it had been Sethorn and Tyomar, who had almost come to blows. Any territorial breech could set any brother off. Zendyor’s accusation that he’d purposefully taken a woman was ridiculous. Nyro’s sole concern was being dragged away from what promised to be an extremely riveting encounter to deal with his brother’s falsehoods and inability to stay off his range. “We are ready,” Sethorn announced as Tyomar took his seat.
Khyros finally inclined his head. “Then we will get started. Before we get to clan business, is there anything we need to discuss first?”
“Yes,” Zendyor bit out. “I have a territory issue.”
Nyro leaned onto the table, his face tight as he shot his brother a warning. “If you bring up a territory issue, I hope you are prepared to lose that territory.”
“You are the one who is not honoring our laws,” Zendyor bellowed.
“What is this about?” Sethorn asked.
“Nyro has taken someone into his lair who traveled across my range first. They should belong to me.”
Sethorn glanced at Nyro before addressing Zendyor. “Were they heading for his lair? Or were they simply trespassing on both of your territories?”
“They were heading to mine,” Nyro interjected. “Apparently, according to the unlawful research Zendyor has conducted, this individual was recruited by my stewards and therefore was always mine.”
“If your stewards allowed her to cross my territory, then she is mine,” Zendyor bellowed. “You cannot change the rules to suit yourself when you feel like it.”
“I don’t have anything to do with recruitment in my lair,” Nyro bellowed back at him, almost offended at the suggestion. “Anything that happened may or may not be the result of my stewards’ efforts.” He turned to Khyros. “I cannot take responsibility for the things they may or may not have done.”
“You can take responsibility for the fact that you have not investigated it or sought to correct it!” Zendyor bellowed.
“Calm down,” Tyomar urged.
Silence fell over the table as Zendyor glared at Nyro.
“Why are you so frustrated and angry, Zendyor?” Khyros finally spoke.
Zendyor took a breath, tension releasing from his shoulders as he exhaled. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful to you, Khyros,” he mumbled, finally dragging his eyes from Nyro to face the head of the clan. “It is not my intention to make this meeting a war zone, but I have had the misfortune of sharing boundaries with Nyro for over five centuries now, even though I have requested for my territory to be relocated elsewhere. He doesn’t abide by the rules, he doesn’t listen, he doesn’t care about the clan or about anything we stand for. I have raised this issue multiple times in our clan meetings, and you all defend him and make excuses for him. If you wish to do that about Vattoro concerns, that is your prerogative, but I will not stand by when it comes to my territory. A woman entered my range and traveled across it to get to his lair. She was on my territory first; therefore, she belongs to me. And I will have her.”
Nyro took a deep breath, trying to calm his tone. “Who are you talking about? Which woman?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Zendyor admitted.
Sethorn frowned. “If you don’t know who she is, how is Nyro supposed to locate her?”
“That is not my problem,” Zendyor said simply. “He never should have accepted her in the first place, considering she traveled across my territory—his trackers and stewards would have known that fact.”
Nyro turned to Khyros, waiting for his chance to respond.
Kyros nodded.
“Our ranges are not small,” Nyro pointed out. “Both of ours span miles and miles of open terrain—mountain high roads and valley
s. If you knew that she crossed your territory to get to mine, that means you had time to retain her, and you didn’t. You waited until she crossed into my territory and entered my lair. This was all done prior to you bringing this accusation.”
Zendyor’s jaw hardened. “I didn’t get information about her straightaway. My dragon was tracking her.”
“She wasn’t even detectable to your own trackers?” Nyro said in disbelief. He turned to Kyros, raising his hand. “I cannot take this seriously. He allowed this woman to slip through his grasp, and now he is complaining that I am stealing her. I don’t even know who she is!”
Zendyor grit his teeth. “I am asking you to honor our agreement that we would not impede each other to protect the boundaries of our sacred territories.”
“Then you should have come to me and asked in a respectful way,” Nyro bellowed, shooting up from his chair. “Instead of having your dragon seek me out on my own range so intently that my dragon had to respond. If you had approached me and asked me, I could have asked my stewards to find the trespasser and help to you. Now I have no interest in doing that.”
Khyros raised his hand before Zendyor could reply, and he gestured for Nyro to sit down.
“Zendyor makes some good points, Nyro,” he began, as Nyro dropped back into his chair. “Our territories are sacred spaces, and we obviously want them to remain so. However, Zendyor, just because Nyro runs his lair differently than you do doesn’t mean he is attempting to deprive you of your rights. Nor can this situation necessarily be blamed on the actions of his staff. Our lands are so vast that it is difficult for the lesser-mortals to determine where one range ends and another begins. This individual you are referring to may not have known that she crossed two ranges, and we don’t know what the stewards knew of her journey. Is this a common occurrence that happens within both of your territories?”