Obsidian Wings (Soul of a Dragon Book 1)

by Clara Hartley

“Please,” she said. Her lower lip was quivering. He could see the rage bubbling beneath her skin, but it was suppressed by her fear for him.

  Her eyes shone like the moon. He couldn’t ignore them. “Fine. But Greta will do the caring for the patients. You can brew the potions. No need to get near them.”

  “But brews are only part of being a healer—”

  “I thought you hated touching men?”

  She looked down. “I do, but it’s different when they’re incapacitated and hurting. I shouldn’t see them as men anymore. I mean, I think I should be able to touch them. They’re just patients… well, usually Eduard tends to them, but if it’s the price I have to pay to be a good healer, I don’t mind…”

  Who is Eduard? Jealousy sparked and Rayse growled. “Whatever. Are you taking my offer or not?”

  Greta paused, then swayed her head. “That’s silly. What kind of healer doesn’t touch her wounded? Your brain’s a huge puzzle, pumpkin.”

  Just then, a frantic mother scurried in with a toddler in her arms. “Greta, my boy is hurt! Help. Please.”

  Rayse could smell blood all over the boy. On closer inspection, he suffered bruised limbs. The toddler was wailing like a siren.

  Greta didn’t bother to pause and joke around. “Lay him down. Constance, check him for wounds and give me a report. I’ll cook some sparroweed for him.”

  At once, Constance was at the boy’s side. She was breaking Rayse’s rule of not touching patients right then, in front of him. He was on the edge. His lust for her had never settled down, and it made him easily provoked.

  His dragon growled and prowled in the corners of his mind. Her hands are on another male. His human side told his beast that it was only a boy. But his animal did not see it like that.

  “You’ll be all right,” the mother said. “Look, it’s Lord Rayse. You like him, don’t you? Stay strong, darling.”

  “What happened?” Constance asked, as her hands trailed over the little boy’s body.

  The dragon wife said, “Dragonlings can be vicious. He got picked on when he stepped on the wrong toes. And he’s not the strongest of the bunch. Dragons don’t like weakness.”

  “Children did this? Two snapped limbs and one broken ribcage.” Constance had lifted the boy’s shirt with her soft, gentle hands. Her touch was supposed to be reserved for Rayse and Rayse only.

  “Dragon children,” the mother corrected Constance.

  He’s just a boy, Rayse reminded his inner beast. Stop being so bloody unreasonable.

  But the monster inside him raged and thrashed. A pounding started in his temple.

  “Rayse,” the boy said. The dragonling’s idolization shone through his pain. “Black Menace. You’re… good…”

  Constance’s tender hands were still on the child—pressing, prodding.

  “Shut it, weakling,” Rayse said. He didn’t care for the child—the little dragon would survive. Rayse had suffered worse in his childhood.

  His mate furrowed her brow. “What is wrong with you? He’s injured.” She leaned toward the boy and hugged him.

  That did it for Rayse. His dragon couldn’t take it anymore. His control over his beast would have been better if Constance had been marked, but he hadn’t been able to finish the deed.

  And she was more willing to touch the patient than him.

  Envy flooded him like a tidal wave. He reached down and swung Constance’s entire frame around his shoulders. “I’ve had enough.” He wanted to take her from this place—then, maybe, fuck her.

  She squealed. “What? Let me down!”

  He didn’t care for the strange looks he got, or the protests from Constance. He was all dragon. His beast had taken control of the reins and he couldn’t pull back.

  He stalked out of the clinic. The tent flapped behind him.

  “Gone so soon?” Greta called from inside. Her voice was muffled by the mountain winds. “Come back after you’re done romping about, little bunnies.”

  Only the mad lady would dare call him a bunny.

  He hated that woman.

  Constance struggled. Being slung around a man’s shoulders was beyond humiliating. “What’s gotten in to you?” She was furious. Scared, but more mad than afraid.

  How could this man be upset that she was caring for someone else? And that boy—the healer in her was concerned about his well-being. She’d never seen a child that badly beaten.

  The cold winds flailed, but Rayse’s body heat overwhelmed them.

  “Rayse? Please let me down. I’m sorry.” She really wasn’t. But she didn’t want him to hurt her.

  Black wings pierced through his skin and clothes. They stained his tunic with red blood. Did that hurt? The sight made her stomach roil.

  He wouldn’t fly? Would he?

  “Rayse… Rayse! I demand that you put me down. Don’t you dare take off—” Could he still hear her?

  He took to the skies with her still around his shoulders.

  “Oh heavens.” She gasped and shut her eyes. Height was foreign to her. She clutched at him with all her might, fearing a fall. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Her heart throbbed so hard that she heard ringing in her ears. She was certain people were looking at them from below, but she didn’t see them because she daren’t look down.

  He landed on the ground less gracefully than she expected him to.

  She panted. “Dragons. I survived. Can you let me down now?”

  But he still wouldn’t respond.

  It was as if a snake coiled around her body, tightening, squeezing around her emotions and not letting her breathe. She had given up struggling. Fighting a dragon man would lead her to nowhere, but a simmer had started within her.

  He padded his way toward their room and tossed her onto the bed. Five times she had called his name, and five times he had ignored her pleas.

  His eyes were yellowish slits.

  “I asked you to not touch him,” he said. His voice had two layers—one animal, one human.

  The buzzing in her ears continued. “Get away from me.” Her eyes teared with terror. He looked at her with a cannibalistic hunger. His gaze promised her terrible things.

  And her soul wanted whatever he was promising.

  He snarled. “You cannot deny me.” He pressed her hands down with one of his.

  “Please. Stop.”

  Her pleas fell on deaf ears. His massive, stonelike body weighted her down. She was a caged animal and he was her captor. He could do anything he wanted to her, and she could only weep in response.

  Yeessss, his dragon hissed. His passions ignited in him.

  He could scent the wetness between her thighs. Her body reacted to his every touch. She wants you.

  He licked the nape of her creamy neck. It was smooth, delicate.

  She is mine.

  But the human in him fought. He knew he didn’t deserve to touch her like this. Not yet. He shouldn’t be so forceful.

  Do you want her to hate you?

  His dragon didn’t care. Its desires had festered and erupted in an uncontrollable surge. He had failed to claim her earlier, and it resulted in another male getting too close to her.

  “L-let me… go,” Constance begged.

  “You want me,” he said.

  “I don’t. I won’t.”

  He reached under her dress with his palm. “Stop lying to yourself.”

  He tried to reason with himself, but the fervor had ripped all sensibilities from him. He leaned backward and unbuckled his pants. His rod had formed an uncomfortable tent in his pants. It strained to find release.

  He wanted to be inside of her. To have her breasts pressed up against him. He longed to feel every curve of her body.

  His dragon knew she wanted the same. It could smell, taste, sense the lust seeping from her every pore. I can give her the pleasure she wants. She will love me for it.

  A sobbing reached his ears. “I hate you.”

  He stilled.

  “I despis
e you. I don’t know why we’re even mates.”

  “Little fire…”

  “Let me go. I wish you’d just die.”

  The shock her words inflicted allowed him to seize control of his rationality again. He peered down at his mate’s tear-stained face and parted his lips. What had he done?

  He pulled back sharply. “Constance, I…”

  “I abhor you.” She reached up and covered her eyes. “I hate you so much I can’t stand it.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Why must you humiliate me? You can take me in here, rape me. I’d expected that from a monster like you. I was afraid of that, but I expected it. But you did not have to make me feel powerless in front of the whole clan.”

  He growled. “I’m not a monster.”

  “Really? Then what was that?”

  “The mating—”

  “And will you use that as an excuse for your actions every time? A grown man should know to control himself.” She was a mess. Her lips were wet. Her dress was lifted to show her inviting hips.

  But the way she looked at him shook his very core. He loathed seeing her fear, but he didn’t realize it could be worse. She stared up at him, boiling with pure disgust and animosity.

  She tensed her jaw. “You didn’t have to get riled up because of a little boy.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” Even then, he was fighting pain. “If only you could read my thoughts. Every inch of my being wants to claim you. It is an animalistic urge.” His dragon wanted to fuck her. It didn’t care for her emotions. He thought he had gotten enough control of himself before he came back for her.

  He wanted to be near her to forge a bond, but he should have done otherwise and stayed away. Losing his sense had only soured the situation.

  She pulled her dress down and sat herself up. She leaned against the bedframe and hugged her knees to her chest. Tears still poured. “I want to go home.”

  He never should have gone to the Offering. It only brought him torment. Was this what he was looking forward to all these centuries? Why did his dragon want this woman so much? She couldn’t give him the love he’d been craving for.

  You were so close. You should have entered her.

  Such thoughts were dangerous.

  He swallowed. She was so vulnerable… he could just push her onto the bed, press his lips on hers, and have his cock buried in her wetness in seconds.

  “I can have everything I want,” he said. “I can take lands, seize control, make anyone submit to me.” Why did her caramel eyes glare at him so?

  “You have me,” she said. “I’m here like you wanted me to be. Forced here.”

  He shook his head. “Your presence is just one thing I want.”

  Her lower lip quivered. “Sex? Is that what you wish for? What’s stopping you from snatching it?”

  “No. That’s not it.”

  A deep pause ghosted the air as her eyes searched him. “You’re a lonely man because all you do is take, Rayse Everstone.”

  His brow furrowed.

  She inhaled. Her body tensed. “Love isn’t something you take. It’s something you need to give to receive. You can’t expect the clan—you can’t expect me—to like you if all you want to do is take.”

  “What do you know about me?”

  Fury burned in her gaze. “I was just thinking that a man who can’t love a poor, injured boy ought to be a really lonesome person. He can’t be liked by many.”

  A growl rippled from his throat. He didn’t want to hear those words. They hurt because, inside, he knew they were true. He’d stopped loving three hundred years ago, when the humans he had cared for had died.

  Not once had someone dared speak out to him like that. “You know nothing. You are a child compared to the years I’ve lived.”

  “Perhaps. But at least I know compassion. Tell me, beast, when was the last time you said a simple ‘thank you’?”

  His stomach tightened. “We’re done talking.” He stalked away. “You probably should wash up.” Her words had throttled his emotions and jammed up his thoughts.

  He walked slower, but her reply didn’t come. He took a quick glance at her perfect form as his hand rested on the doorframe. Her body was trembling. With fear, or anger, he didn’t know.

  He grunted his frustration and let the door click shut behind him.

  Chapter 9

  I won’t lose myself to this place, Constance thought. I can’t just sit there for Rayse’s taking.

  She stared down at the knife she had stolen from the kitchen and took a sideways glance at Nanili. The mishram didn’t speak unless prompted. The creature wouldn’t give Constance’s actions away to Rayse, right?

  Would she really use this weapon against him?

  Better safe than sorry. She made a makeshift sheath out of cloth and strapped the knife to her thigh.

  He was such a confusing creature. One minute, he acted like the demon she thought he was, then the next, he showed glimpses of kindness. He had been winning her over before their trip to the clinic. For a second, she thought she could make it work with him.

  Then he’d gone and flown her over Dragon Keep, her butt sticking out into the air, her body carried around as little more than cargo.

  But he had stopped when she cried, hadn’t he?

  She doubted Bastion stopped when Mother cried.

  The memory made her sick.

  Is that boy okay? Greta must have taken care of him, but Constance was still concerned.

  She paced around the living room and faced down its four walls. Rayse’s stone mansion wasn’t small. But it suffocated her. She didn’t want to be in his home, filled with his scent. She surveyed her surroundings. Rayse wasn’t there.

  I’ll go back to the clinic. It’s still evening. It was the closest thing to home here in dragon territory. She doubted Greta would care to ridicule her reddened, teared face, and Constance wanted to see if the boy had stabilized.

  She grabbed the cloak that Marzia had lent her. It had fallen to the ground when Rayse brought her home. She slipped it around her shoulders.

  Rayse wouldn’t approve of her leaving, but she didn’t care to think of her consequences. He wanted her to stay at home and serve him like his own personal whore, she presumed. She wouldn’t let herself be degraded to such levels.

  She walked out, and the chilling mountain temperatures slammed into her.

  She had never made the trek to Dragon Keep alone before, but it wasn’t longer than half an hour, and she would survive it.

  The cold had been better with Rayse’s warm body next to hers, but she ignored that and pressed on. She was careful not to slip on the edged rocks.

  “Aye, lovely,” a male called in a singsong voice.

  She spun around. Who was that? The streets around Rayse’s home were empty the last couple times she’d traveled through them.

  An ash-blonde male strode toward her from the end of the rocky path. “Yes, you.”

  “I’m sorry. I must be on my way.” She didn’t like the way he watched her—like she was prey.

  “What’s the hurry? Let’s introduce ourselves. You’re our new femriahl, yes?”

  “Femriahl?”

  “Our clan leader’s dragon wife.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Ranwynn.” He halted in front of her and offered a friendly handshake.

  She studied him with wavering eyes. She didn’t want to touch his hand, but he had left her in a tough spot. I’ll just make an introduction and be on my way.

  She reached out to shake his hand, preparing to hold back a wince. The moment their fingertips touched, Ranwynn tugged her arm down. He twisted her body around and expertly forced a piece of cloth between her lips, gagging her.

  Her eyes widened as her body shook.

  He laughed. “Too easy. This should rile up that black dragon.” He threw her onto the ground and bound her hands.

  She tried to ask him who he was but coul
dn’t talk past the gag.

  He tossed her over his shoulder and leapt into the air, spreading red wings.

  “Better have a good reason for calling me out here,” Rayse said. He wanted to be close to his mate after that confrontation. The crack in their relationship had widened. Leaving it at that made his insides protest.

  Shen flew next to him in dragon form. “Apologies, milord. But I do believe this situation will be better met with your direct attention.” The skin of their wings flapped in the breeze.

  A group of the best warriors flew beside them, Fraser included. Rasye’s nose took up the scent of fire and blood. He peered down. A sea of flames greeted him.

  Shen lowered his gaze. “It appears we are too late.”

  “Report.”

  Fraser answered, “There have been sightings of a flight of dragons terrorizing villages around this area. One of the dragons on patrol spotted them wreaking havoc. It might be an opportune time to stop them.”

  “Why wasn’t this told to me sooner?”

  “We thought it might have been simple dragon foolery.”

  Smoke flared from Rayse’s nostrils. “And now we’ve lost a village.”

  “This is the first village they’ve burned.”

  “And we could have stopped it.” He growled. “Now they’ve had their first taste of destruction, they’re going to want more. I want patrols out searching for them. The sooner we snuff this out, the better.”

  They all bowed their heads. “Yes, milord.”

  His ears caught the pleas of a dying man. He flew down. The ground crackled under the weight of his talons. His sharp dragon eyes easily caught sight of a man stuck under debris, calling out for aid. The victim was halfway on the road to death.

  “Help! Help, someone. Help… Help…” The man’s eyes clouded with madness.

  With a sweep of his tail, Rayse brushed the cindered mass of wood pinning the man down.

  “Someone tend to him,” Rayse ordered. He dipped his head in a solemn gesture, even though the man would not notice it. What had this poor soul lost because of his kind?

  The human’s eyes widened. “Please. Oh dragons, please. Return my wife and daughters to me.” He stumbled to get up and kneel, despite his half-torn leg. The injured fellow quivered like a broken twig in strong winds. He wept a stream of tears. “Do anything to me. I don’t care. Just don’t do them any harm.”