A Lair So Sinful

by Zoey Ellis

  Finally, there was a time when the door opened and it wasn’t Dayatha who entered.

  I’mya saw his boots first. Lying on the floor on her side, they were first in her view. Her mind remained blank as it always had, thinking about nothing.

  Nyro knelt down in front of her and gently pulled her into a sitting position. He said something, brushing his thumb on her cheek, running his palm over her bare scalp before he began to undo her bandages. They stunk by now, soaked for days with whatever liquid Dayatha had poured on her. She also hadn’t bathed or washed in all the time she’d been in here. She was disgusting.

  I’mya closed her eyes, squeezing them tight as the cool air touched her skin. She had to force herself not to listen to Nyro’s words, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the tone of his voice. It was mellow and soothing and bassy. It boomed in her chest and she clung to it, unable to stop herself from sinking into the soothing balm it provided. She didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t help it when he was in the room with her, touching her, his skin against hers.

  Finally, all the bandages had been removed and Nyro lifted her up and carried her out of the room and along a couple of corridors. I’mya kept her eyes closed, her cheek against his chest, assuming the position she had always enjoyed. She remained limp, trying to ignore the sensations he aroused in her. His scent was even more spectacular than she remembered, dark and rich, awakening something in her she’d been starved for. Why was he always causing such a reaction in her?

  Suddenly sounds began to echo around them, as if they were in a large, closed-off cavern. Water lapped at her legs as Nyro lowered them both into a body of water. He submerged them until the water was up to I’mya’s neck, and then she opened her eyes. She’d been correct; they were in a dark cavern that held hardly any light. The water reflected on the top of the cavern, creating swaying rays of light. Nyro spoke, and I’mya enjoyed his deep voice as she stared up at the ceiling of the cavern. Then the water began to rapidly heat up until it was so hot, it was burning her. She thrashed against Nyro’s grip, contorting herself at the incredible burn he was forcing her to endure, but just as she began screaming, it cooled just as rapidly until she was almost freezing. Nyro lifted her out and took her back to the oval room.

  He dried her carefully, dabbing her tight, stiff skin. Even though she was no longer wrapped in bandages, I’mya didn’t look at herself. There was no doubt she was scarred all over and she didn’t want to see the damage that had been done by the dragon; it would only be a reminder of her sister.

  When he lowered them down to the bedding, she recognized the smell. It was from her heat. Her old, dried slick and his seed were splattered all throughout the blankets and pillows. The smell was so strong that it hit the back of her throat, yet it was beautiful. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the familiar stir in her stomach. Nyro fixed her on his lap, her cheek against his chest, and he began to purr.

  The vibrations mumbled through her as if she were a dry, cracked leaf battling against the force of a hurricane. She couldn’t fight it—the rumble penetrated every part of her, seeping deep into her body and soothing every organ, every limb, every patch of tight, itchy skin. Even though she was already limp, his purr soothed her into a gentle, relaxed state. She sighed, pressing herself harder against him, seeking even more comfort from him that she knew only he could give.

  When he brought the goblet to her lips, she drank the water, only now realizing how thirsty she’d been. And when he lifted stew-soaked bread to her lips, she ate it with relish, recognizing the various flavors and relishing the taste.

  She finally fell into a deep sleep on his chest, and when she woke again, he was still there, still purring, still holding her and caressing her back.

  “Eat,” he ordered, bringing more soaked bread to her lips. She ate, finishing all the food he had, and then she drank some water.

  Nyro ran his fingers down her spine, caressing her shoulders and brushing his lips against whichever part of her skin he could reach. His arousal was strong in her nose, and it was impossible for her body not to react. Her slick gathered, and the hair on her arms prickled in anticipation. She tried to sink back into that dead calm, but it was impossible now. She was too alert, too aware. Her body was too stimulated.

  She waited for him to slip his fingers between her legs or kiss her neck or position her over his rigid length and push her down into the sheets and do as he pleased. It wouldn’t be unwelcomed. But he didn’t.

  Annoyed, she leaned back, lowering on the bedding as he watched her spread her knees. The hunger in Nyro’s eyes intensified instantly as they landed on the sight between her legs, his nostrils flared. He glanced back up at her, and if looks could devour, she would have been destroyed in an instant. He tucked one large hand under her ass and yanked her toward him. Lifting just her ass up, he looked down at her as he sniffed up her thigh to her slit, a rumbling growl signifying his pleasure.

  I’mya was already panting, but at the sound of his growl, she began dripping. She balanced her toes on his wide shoulders, but when he leaned forward and lapped his rough tongue across her, she almost lost control of her body. She whimpered as she tried to steady herself again. This time, he lowered his face and began to suck, nibble, and lick her the way she wanted it; rough, with tender attention paid to her bundle.

  The gratification spread over her whole body and her breath hitched at the sight of her alpha feeding from her as she ground her hips into his face. Her climax came tumbling along, fast and rough, and she wasn’t prepared for it. Suddenly she was swept up in its rapture, uncontrolled and frantic. Her limp body twitched as Nyro kissed her throbbing and gushing slit, and as he lowered her hips, she was already drifting into a peaceful slumber.

  When she woke, I’mya was disappointed that Nyro had left. He didn’t enter her, knot her or cuddle with her at all. But she couldn’t expect that from him. She was lucky she wasn’t still being tortured.

  For the next few days, the pattern repeated. Nyro lifted her into his lap, fed her mostly stew or stew-soaked bread. He didn’t say anything, just gave her water to drink afterward and cuddled her close to him as he always did, stroking her skin as he purred.

  Although she was sleeping better now, I’mya was unable to slip back into the cold quiet she had enjoyed before. Nyro’s presence was too provoking.

  Once, after he had fed her, I’mya pulled away from his chest and looked up at him.

  “Are you feeling better, I’mya?” he asked, his voice low and rumbly and his eyes roaming her face.

  She blinked at him, wondering why he was talking to her. This wasn’t how she expected him to treat a prisoner. “Why are you here?” she whispered. The food must have been medicated. She felt unnaturally heavy and drowsy, and her words slurred.

  “I am caring for you during the transition, I’mya,” he said.

  She didn’t know what that meant. “I thought your purr is a gift?”

  “It is.”

  “So why are you gifting it to your prisoner?” she asked.

  A strange alarm entered his eyes. “You are not my prisoner.”

  “I am one of your belongings,” she agreed. “But I also tried to kill your dragon.”

  He watched her closely. “Why did you do that?”

  “He killed my little sister,” she rasped.

  Nyro inhaled a sharp breath in.

  She tried to lean forward, to rest again on his chest but he held her back, preventing her.

  “When?” he asked. “How did this happen?”

  “It was my fault,” she said, tears building in her eyes. “And the king. His fault too.”

  Nyro growled, deep and long. Strangely, it settled her.

  He leaned her backward so he could look down on her face. “What was your relationship with the king, I’mya?”

  “It was like with you.” She yawned, trying to get into a comfortable position to sleep.

  Nyro froze, his face like thunder. “Did you fuck him?�
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  I’mya shook her head.

  “Then how was it like with me?”

  “He used me for what he needed.”

  Shock slammed into his face. “I’mya!” he growled out.

  But sleep would not wait, and within moments she drifted off into another slumber.

  The next day when he arrived in her little cavern, Nyro brought a book with him. It was more like a stack of parchment, old and curling at the edges, as though it had been hastily bound together to make a book of sorts. He fed her the stew again, then water, and then pulled her to sit in his lap.

  “You will read this,” he said, handing her the book.

  I’mya turned it over. “What is it?”

  He didn’t answer, but I’mya noticed that the text was in a language she understood, so she settled down in his lap and began reading.

  It was about the history of the dragorai. It stated that the dragorai were the creation of the Seven Goddesses, one of their experiments of combining dynamics with a dan askha, or sacred animal, that would help to guide the individual in their basic instincts. Dragorai were not the only ones whom they created, but they were their most successful.

  The book went on to explain that their popularity and favor by the Goddesses led to numerous various clans existing and dominating the Twin Realms, and during this time their culture developed in what was called the Dragorai Age. It was a bloody and violent time, but was one of the fastest-growing ages in the history of the Twin Realms; many advancements and discoveries happened in potion magic and verbal invocations.

  The text claimed that, of all of their creations, the Goddesses were most proud of the dragorai and visited them regularly in the very early stages of the Age. The dragorai worshiped the Order of the Seven and, in reverence to their creators, established the Order as the dominant faith over the many others that existed at that time.

  The text began to get scarce and less well-written as it started to cover the demise of the Dragorai Age. The growth of lesser-mortals, who were smaller and weaker but more populous, created different kinds of conflict for the dragorai. It explained that the lesser-mortals began experimenting with perverse uses of magic on their more delicate frames, intoxicating themselves and creating highly addictive substances. One of them was a highly popular drug that could only be created by acquiring the lining of dragons’ wombs. The resulting drug, named claw, was an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac and inhibitor of fear as well as gave the user more control over magic.

  Once the lesser-mortals realized the power of this drug, female dragons were targeted with an incredibly brutal focus. War was waged on countless civilizations who attacked the dragorai, targeting their females. But ultimately, the lesser-mortals were many, and they constructed smart ways to capture female dragorai-dragons, who did not bond with their omega counterpart at birth like the males did.

  At the time of the writing, all the females had died out. The omega counterparts were permanently left without their dan askhas, which made them vulnerable. It was unknown why the Goddesses did not step in to help them, as many thought they would. Most of the speculation surrounding why they didn’t was not favorable to them, and the guardians of the Order, the Mheyu, had to isolate their work in sanctums that were hard to access. The book went on to say that only a few dragorai clans were left, and it was assumed that they, too, would eventually become extinct.

  I’mya rested the pages in her lap, sinking into deep thought. Although she had known that this dragorai clan was the last remaining one, she hadn’t known why. She knew that there had been a Dragorai Age, and that the dragorais had once thrived, but she hadn’t thought much about why they died out. She assumed it was due to natural causes. If it was the lesser-mortals who had begun experimenting with magic and waging a war against female dragons for their body parts, that was horrific. And if that was the case, she could understand why Nyro and his brothers looked down on her and her kind, or may not have any sympathy for the current war that waged in their Realm. Why would they want to help the people who had so violently and disgustingly destroyed their chances of existing? With no more female dragons, they could not have children. Was that why Nyro tried to bond with her? Surely it wouldn’t end well if they weren’t incompatible? She thought back to every single time they were together. Were they really incompatible? They had taken an immense amount of enjoyment from each other. Was that why he wanted to bond with her?

  She glanced up at him, unsure what to take from the text and how it could be applied to them. “Is it true?”

  He held her gaze. “Yes.”

  Her eyes drifted from him as she thought. “So why did you try to bond with me then?”

  “You are my mate, I’mya.”

  “How can I be? I am not a dragorai female.”

  “You are also not a lesser-mortal. That is clear.”

  I’mya huffed out a breath. “If you hate lesser-mortals, why have you been fucking us for centuries?” she bit out.

  His brows drew together. “I don’t hate lesser-mortals.”

  “Not even after everything that’s in here?” She held up the book. “Didn’t you say you don’t care about our war? We’re good enough to fuck but not good enough for anything else?”

  “Do you think we would fill our lairs with lesser-mortals if we despised them?” Nyro said, sharply. “That is not the case. All lesser-mortals cannot be blamed for the actions of some. We have always had a devoted following of lesser-mortals and they have put themselves through all seven hells to protect us. We do not abandon them. If someone is committed to the dragorai, we try to protect them and keep them close to us. There’s no benefit in alienating every single lesser-mortal.”

  “But you don’t care if the rest of us kill each other?”

  Nyro scowled. “I cannot be concerned with everyone and everything, no one can. That is not the point of this discussion.” He held her eye. “You told me that I use you.”

  I’mya pursed her lips. She vaguely remembered saying that, but so what? It was true. “Yes.”

  Nyro was quiet for a moment before he began speaking. “When I realized that my brothers and I would be the last remaining dragorai ever, I decided I didn’t want to miss out on the best life my kind could have. I believe I deserved that as the last of my kind—I still believe it. So I focused on the most enjoyable things… hunting, surrounding myself with lavish things, and sex. It was a life I enjoyed, and I wanted to protect that until I died.” He leaned in toward her, his forehead touching hers. “And then I found you, naked and delicious and holding magic in your face. And I wanted to have fun with you, I admit. But then you kissed me.”

  I’mya’s heart began to pound in her throat.

  “And I realized I wasn’t living my best life,” Nyro said. “I was living like a dragon.” The intensity of his gaze made her stomach tingle, but she couldn’t look away. “When I met you in my lair, you instantly opened up layers of possibilities, complex emotions, needs and desires that I did not anticipate. I had the urge to dominate you, and you did not make it easy.” He lowered his chin as he looked into her eyes. “And I love that. You challenged me in ways I had never been challenged—ways I couldn’t be challenged because I didn’t care enough.”

  I’mya swallowed. “But anyone could have—”

  “No, they couldn’t,” Nyro growled. He lifted his head as he thought for a moment. “Do you remember when you called me a coward.”

  I’mya couldn’t help but smile. “You said you wouldn’t use magic to see if I could overcome you.”

  Nyro nodded. “And then you closed your eyes and rested on my chest, and I couldn’t move.”

  I’mya tilted her head. “You couldn’t move?”

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said. “You looked so peaceful and… very captivating. You required my chest and my support, and I would have stood right there for the rest of time to give that to you.” He smiled ruefully. “You won. You overcame me in that moment. And you have had many w
ins since—you just don’t realize them or think they are important. But I do.”

  I’mya had no way to respond. There wasn’t any argument that could contend with the way he felt about his interactions with her. And in the context of what he had previously been doing—living like an animal—his interest in her was both unusual and long-lived.

  When she had chosen to stay with him, before all her memories came back, she was mainly hoping that he wouldn’t discard her, but he had been taking her more seriously than she had been taking him. She averted her gaze, unsure what to say; a light, buoyant feeling in her chest made her whole body tingle.

  He didn’t require her to say anything. His purr rumbled up again, and he pulled her to his chest.

  “So that’s why you wanted to bond with me?” she asked finally.

  “Yes, but you are my mate, fireball,” Nyro said. “It is ordained, even if I didn’t want it, it would be the case.”

  Something about his assured tone settled her, but it didn’t make sense. “But you just gave me a book to read about how you and your brothers have no more females to mate with.”

  “We have to speak to my brothers to get answers to that.”

  I’mya’s eyes widened. “No.” She didn’t know how the rest of the brothers would have behaved about what she did. She had nearly destroyed a dragon. That wasn’t a small feat. And considering the all dragons that were lost at the hands of lesser-mortals, they no doubt saw her as a threat.

  “They wish to speak to you anyway,” Nyro said.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are both a mystery and an opportunity,” he explained. “I told them about your sister and they understand that you could have been manipulated by the king, but they need to hear it from you. They would like to know more about you, and they will have some answers. If we go to see them, it will not interrupt your transition.”