Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

“Good,” Lucyan said. He slid a finger inside her, and Dareena let out a strangled cry, her hips instinctively driving forward. Alistair groaned as he plunged even deeper inside her, and Lucyan pushed his finger higher. Her rear muscles clenched around him as a bolt of pain-laced pleasure hit her, and she clutched at Lucyan’s free arm, holding on for dear life as the sensation assaulted her.

“That’s it,” Lucyan crooned in her ear as she panted, straining against him. Slowly, he withdrew his finger until it was nearly all the way out, then pushed it back in, going a little deeper. Dareena dug her nails into his flesh as the sensation lanced her again, but this time there was more pleasure than pain. Soon enough, her muscles relaxed, and she began to rock back and forth, taking them both, savoring the dual sensations as she was filled and stretched.

“Just imagine,” Alistair said roughly, leaning in to tongue Dareena’s earlobe. “One day, that won’t be a mere finger inside you. It will be a thick, hard cock, pumping you so full you’ll think you’re going mad.”

Dareena’s eyes flew open as the image branded itself in her mind. She’d never heard Alistair say something so dirty, and though the words scalded her ears, they also pushed her over the edge, throwing her into another orgasm. Screaming, she bucked her hips harder against Alistair’s, and he swore, then came inside her with a rush of heat.

“My turn,” Lucyan panted, shoving Alistair away with his foot. He withdrew his finger, and Dareena moaned as he slid his cock inside her pussy, which was still pulsing from the after-shocks of her orgasm.

Alistair watched as his brother fucked her from beneath, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction while he leaned against the rocks. His cock was still hard, and he stroked it lazily as Lucyan pumped his cock in and out of her while using his free hand to play with her clit.

“I want you to scream my name when you come,” Lucyan growled in Dareena’s ear as his thrusts grew faster. “Scream it so loud they’ll hear you all the way back in Elvenhame and know that you’ve been reclaimed by your mates. No one else will ever touch you again.”

The fingers on her clit began to move faster, forcing the knot of tension deep inside her to build, build, build. Moaning helplessly, Dareena moved her hips faster, grinding herself against Lucyan, straining for the release that was just out of reach.

“Gods, yes,” Lucyan groaned, his cock swelling inside her. She felt another rush of heat as he spilled his seed into her, and she came, screaming his name so loud that a flock of birds burst from a nearby tree, disturbed from their sound slumber. Dareena hardly noticed as wave after wave of bliss rushed over her, and with it, a wave of exhaustion. Coming so many times, coupled with the stress of escaping, and all this hot, lovely water…

“That was…nice…” she murmured, sinking against Lucyan’s body. “Really…nice…”

“Under other circumstances, we might be offended,” Alistair said, sounding amused. He slid his arms beneath her and lifted her out of the water. “Come,” he said, wading to the edge of the pool. “Let’s dry you off and get you to bed.”

Dareena nodded, snuggling against Alistair’s chest. She didn’t see where they were going, but the next thing she knew, Alistair was settling her atop what felt like a warm fur. Blearily, she noted that they were in a cave, and briefly wondered how they’d managed to find it. But when Lucyan and Alistair curled their bodies around her, sandwiching Dareena between them, she found she didn’t much care. Happily, she sank into their embrace and let their combined warmth and scents lull her to sleep.





31





Another day passed with no sign of the warlock resurfacing from unconsciousness. Drystan worried that Taldren had permanently damaged him, but after a thorough inspection from the healers, the oracle imposter was pronounced healthy.

“He simply needs to sleep off the effects of the sleeping draught,” the healer said in a placating tone. “Giving him a double dose was not the wisest course of action, but warlocks have hardier constitutions than humans. He will survive this.”

“He’d better,” Drystan muttered, leveling a death glare at Taldren, who was sitting in one of the visitor chairs in Drystan’s office. His cousin suddenly found the dirt under his fingernails to be of supreme interest. Drystan was tempted to strangle him—instead, he drew in a deep breath, counted to ten, then let it out.

“Thank you,” he said to the healer. “You are dismissed.”

The healer bowed. He opened the door, but before he could leave, the steward came in. “Your Highness,” he said, an uneasy note in his voice. “There is a messenger from Elvenhame here to see you.”

Drystan stiffened. “Bring him in.”

Tarius motioned with his hand, and an elven male with black hair entered the room. He stopped in front of Drystan’s desk, then turned to face him, his posture ramrod straight. Drystan narrowed his eyes as he noted the wooden chest the elf was carrying—there was a strong scent of blood and rot coming from it.

“A gift, compliments of Prince Arolas,” the elf said, placing the chest on Drystan’s desk. His face betrayed no hint of emotion.

Taldren was instantly at Drystan’s side. “Perhaps I should open that—”

“No.” Drystan knocked his cousin’s hand away, his gaze fixated on the small chest. An awful feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, telling him to leave the chest be, to look away. Steeling himself, he lifted the latch, then opened it.

“Oh gods,” the healer choked, his face growing pale. Rage and disgust built in Drystan’s chest as he stared at the severed arm, lying neatly in the wooden chest on a blood-stained pillow. The skin had taken on a greenish hue, and had burst open in several places, oozing rot and maggots. The stench was overpowering, but beneath it, Drystan could still discern the scent of the man this arm belonged to.

“The prince has instructed me to inform you that he will be sending more pieces of your brother back every week you delay paying the ransom,” the elf said in that same emotionless tone while Tarius retched behind him. “And if that is not enough of an incentive, he—”

Drystan didn’t let him finish the sentence. He opened his mouth, unleashing a torrent of fire. The elf was incinerated in seconds, reduced to a pile of ash, and it wasn’t nearly enough. Drystan’s entire body trembled with effort as he locked down his jaw to keep from torching the room and everyone in it. He wanted to give himself over to the beast, to become a dragon and rage across the lands, raining hellfire down upon anyone who might oppose him.

But the horrified expressions of the others stayed him. He recognized the look on Taldren’s pale face—it was the same look he’d seen many courtiers give his father when he’d given in to one of his fits of rage.

You are not your father. You are NOT. Your. Father.

“I’m sorry,” Drystan said, exhaling sharply. “I should not have destroyed the elf.”