Burn (Dragon Souls)

  She dared rub her thighs on his deliciously hard ones. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “You are so little.” The words were uttered in a threatening, feral way that made the hair on her arms rise. “I am stronger. I could grab you in my claws and take you to my lair. It is surrounded by jungle, rock and water. Prey does not escape.”

  The sensible half of her thought this a witty part of his repartee. The wild half squirmed.

  Trapped by the muscled length of intoxicating male, his primordial strength and animal cunning an overwhelmingly attractive lure, Marina’s scattered, lusty thoughts gathered into a tantalising conclusion.

  He was dead serious.

  Koen Raad loomed over her, head cocked with marauder curiosity, wondering if she’d try to flee, perversely desiring her to so he could run her down. His tilted eyes were emerald pools circling a monsoon heart sliced and twinned. “Mine forever.”

  “How magnanimous. Must I choose?”

  A jerky, self-satisfied nod revealed the sarcasm missed its mark. “Whichever pleases you more.”

  Lost in his embrace, she gripped the boulder next to her hand, and realised it was the bicep of his arm blocking her exit. I am stronger. He could hold her up or pin her down as easy as breathing. Prey does not escape. Yet she knew the predator who caught her would slavishly worship her body for days.

  Tongue adhered to the roof of her mouth she swallowed convulsively. Exerted a steady pressure with her body, a signal for him to set her free.

  Koen received it and moved.

  Closer.

  Hot breath bathed her neck.

  Breathing reedy, she let him nuzzle her hair. The smell of salt and sand told a tale of cooling off in the lagoon before hunting her down. His own peppery scent was mannish, its impact her a punch to the sternum, and he took an excruciating amount of time investigating the contours of her jaw, tracing the shape of her mouth.

  Her lips parted when his raspy tongue stroked over her bottom lip.

  Sharp teeth sank into it, hard, marking territory.

  Air gushed from her lungs.

  He was there to breath it in, cupping the back of her head, and tongue fucking her mouth. His hip thrust against hers and his other hand grabbed her butt and squeezed.

  A voice demanded in outrage, “Why is he allowed to pin a female to the wall, and when I do it–”

  A muted thump followed a bark of pain.

  “Ow.”

  The comment had Koen going preternaturally still. He hissed savagely then wrenched away. Grabbing her wrist, he stormed into the quietly crowded room pulling her with him, breathing choppy, cheeks slashed with feverish colour.

  Dazed from the abrupt severance of mating sensation, Marina watched Boy slink into the room behind them.

  Her face crumpled and heated, mortified to recall he’d been in her chamber, an intimate witness to her mauling by hungry, aroused male.

  Then again it seemed pretty much everyone had seen it happen. None looked surprised – if anything relieved.

  Marina realised Koen was sex starved.

  His aggression and restlessness grew worse because he wasn’t able to take her when he needed. The rules of Aver limited their contact, forbidding him from openly claiming her as his own.

  That brought on the question of who eased his needs before her.

  And didn’t that cause an ugly emotion to rise up and choke the life out of her.

  “Who were you with before me?” she asked. “And don’t even pretend to not understand what I’m asking.”

  Scowling thunderously, Koen glared down his flared nose at her. A hint of male satisfaction glinted within the profound glittering of his irises.

  Jealousy grew spikes and twisted her guts. “I want names.”

  He grunted.

  Nikolai picked himself off the floor.

  Stood glowering above him, Daniil shook out a red-knuckled fist. “Fool. He will rip out your heart for interrupting.”

  Flippantly blowing air, rubbing his noggin, Nikolai headed straight for Marina, grinning like an idiot.

  “No teasing,” she warned.

  Arms spreading wide for a cuddle, he winked. “Not even I am dumb enough to push him that far right now.”

  “Believable?” Daniil muttered. “I think not.”

  Koen pushed her behind him. Snarled rabidly. “Do not wink at her. Touch her and I will break you.”

  Cringing, Nikolai dropped his arms and spun on his heel. He simply walked back to the safe space he’d come from and sneered when Daniil complacently welcomed his return.

  Marina peeked from her dusty corner, pushing at the wall deciding to ‘defend’ her from family and friends.

  She smiled a greeting to all in attendance. “Shall we all keep a distance until Koen’s feeling more civil?”

  Frantic nodding and mumbles of agreement met the query.

  She massaged Koen’s tense shoulders. “Enough now.”

  She loved him like crazy, but these people were not a threat. She wouldn’t accept him behaving so irrationally for longer than the circumstances necessitated.

  It was difficult. Painful. She saw it in the harsh lines of his expression, the tight jerk of his usually hunting-beast smooth movements. He restrained his primal instincts and allowed her to roam without his quiet menace intimidating their people.

  Marina didn’t push the limits of his control. She kept the congratulatory touches and hugs brief.

  Seeing Mikhail, she didn’t get pissy, merely nodded thanks when his eyes gleamed as he told her what he’d seen at the lagoon made him proud.

  Cathryn was absent.

  Though she was curious and missed her friend, Marina couldn’t bring herself to ask Mikhail where she was.

  Instead, she let Koen pull her onto his lap as he sat.

  Jakob situated himself at a respectful distance down the bench, but he was closer than the rest, already proving he’d always be there to help.

  The other males shifted restlessly, sipped watered wine from their goblets and eyed her with guileless interest.

  Marina waited for it.

  “So.” Brave Nikolai spoke first. “Those soft hands handle the powerful vigour of fire,” he shook his long arm ending in a fist, “as well as piddling pricks of ice.” The strong arm wilted and hung flaccidly.

  The males in the room watched the limp hand hovering at the Dragon Lord’s groin with an infantile kind of revulsion.

  Daniil’s eye twitched.

  Resting his chin on her shoulder, Koen heaved a blustery sigh, glaring balefully at his younger brother.

  Grumbled, “One day he actually might kill him.”

  “No might about it.” Daniil propped a fist on his hip, trawled a clawed hand through his mane of blonde locks and bleached warrior braids. The look he shot his overlord smouldered. “Try inevitable.”

  “Whatever are you about, Dani?” Nikolai leered even as his eyes widened with innocence. “Why would the mention of a piddling prick of ice inspire such frustration and anger and–Ah.” His eyes dropped then shot up, face crumpling in the perfect mix of awkwardness and pity. “There is no shame amongst friends. Do not let my unintentional double–entendre cut so deeply.”

  “Brat!”

  “Since I don’t see this exchange ending well,” Marina said, interrupting the room-wide snickering, “I’m going to intervene and....” She trailed off to watch Daniil stalk the youngest Raad as he raced around the room cackling.

  Shaking her head she met Sevastyan’s kind, laughing eyes. She smiled then looked at the rest of them, happy to see them mingling and getting along.

  Nikolai squealed.

  Well, sort of getting along.

  “In answer to less offensive interpretation of the question,” she yelled over the pitched wails from across the room. “Yes. I control both magical elements of fire and ice.”

  Daniil halted, letting the tail of Nikolai’s mowhawk – which he had wrapped around his fist, the male’s neck, and w
as using as a rope to choke-drag him towards the door – uncoil and slip through his fingers. “When did you learn?”

  “It came naturally,” Jakob replied, sensing her hesitance and knowing she had her reasons.

  Reasons she’d half explained to him though he had no notion of the end conclusion. But he trusted her and would defend her until she was ready to reveal her secrets.

  Face tightening, Daniil clearly wanted to ignore him. “Rare. So not unexpected when it comes to our Princess.”

  “What we should be talking about is the Mages.” Marina shifted on Koen’s lap to half face him and half keep herself open to the room. She looped an arm around his thick neck. “They’re here?”

  Sphinx-like, he considered at her with a coolly distant gaze that still managed to convey possession. His deeply gruff voice was unreadable. “Two of the Eldernmoot have arrived as a delegation on behalf of the Desert People to meet with me, yes.”

  “What are we going to say?”

  “I am going to ask they explain why a brigade of Battle Mages attacked me in my territory to steal my Treasure.”

  “And what if they’re not forthcoming?”

  “Should they be evasive I am going to remind them not to cross our borders on pain of directly offending the Dragon King, which consequently may lead to a war that would devastate both our peoples.”

  “Koen–”

  He clasped her chin. Met her gaze and held it captive. “You are not setting a toe inside that hall.”

  “Be reasonable.” Spine rigid, her hands balled into fists. “You know this is going to be about Boy.”

  “You have an oath-sworn vassal you can command to attend. Jakob will report back to you.”

  He wasn’t even smug about using the very Second she’d fought tooth and nail for against her. That equally aggravated and worried her, because he wasn’t just being overprotective.

  He genuinely thought she couldn’t handle being presented to the Eldernmoot.

  Was it because he thought she might ruin the political chinwag, or some other reason centered on her protection?

  Perhaps sparing her emotions if things turned badly?

  “It’s not the same.” She kept her voice calm. To blow up would cement his opinion she was too volatile to attend. “I want to see their expression and hear their voices. Second hand information could miss out crucial details.” She held up a querulous finger in Daniil’s direction when she heard him shift to speak. “That is not a comment on Jak’s abilities, so don’t even.”

  “I do not care what you say. My will is final.” Koen played with the whorls of hair curled around the shell of her ear. “You are not going.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  There were less people present than she expected. Marina hesitated as she passed over the threshold, causing Jakob to cast her a questioning look. She waved him away and continued towards the circle of seats arranged in the middle of the room.

  She’d argued fiercely to be included in this meeting, and there was no backing out now. She’d envisioned a huge assembly of grandly dressed men milling about the hall arguing over her poor son who’d been set in the middle like a prize.

  It was considerably less grand that that.

  The Eldermon did not only wear brands on their cheeks, but between their dark eyebrows and on the backs of both hands.

  Their tagelmusts were snowy white, and intricate leather braids were woven into the complicated wrappings, dangled around their faces and necks. Dreadlocks bound in string and bone rings cascaded down their backs to their waists.

  They sat cross-legged on meditation stools with their arms folded on their middles.

  Their eyes were deceptively heavy-lidded.

  Marina could see the manipulative calculation behind the sleepy façade.

  Within the first hour her wonder evaporated into trepidation.

  The Eldernmoot representatives Shukri and Murtada were straightforward with their demands. They admitted the party of Battle Mages that crossed the borders was sent at their command to discover if the Fire Kingdom had broken the treaty.

  “It is our belief you abducted the Grand Mage’s sole heir,” Shukri said tightly.

  “We didn’t steal Boy,” Marina protested. “I found him.” She hesitated so slightly over the lie only Koen Raad betrayed recognition of it by infinitesimally shifting. “He was without a protector and something inside me told me to adopt him. So I did.”

  The wizened old man who held the floor dragged his glacial gaze over her. The corners of his mouth curled in contempt. “His name is Grand Prince Ryuk Noor, heir apparent to Grand Mage Rykiel Noor. We are on the brink of civil war because the chain of succession was broken.”

  “You sound accusing,” Koen interjected. “As if we planned this.”

  Shukri’s look was dark, mirrored on the face of his fellow Eldermon. “Did you not?”

  “You’re talking rubbish,” Marina said, barely keeping her voice from shaking. “You threw him away. I know exactly why too. Elder Khan told me.” She nodded when the Mages stiffened at the name. “Now it’s convenient for your plans you want him back. Well you can’t have him. Ever.” She leaned forward and held his stony gaze. She purposefully enunciated her next word. It rumbled from deep within her as her eyes flashed. “Mine.”

  Disquieted by her aggression, the old man averted his eyes. “We did not throw him away. The child vanished.”

  “Boy doesn’t even remember any of this. All he knows is that he’s been a slave since birth until I found him. Surely he’d remember being a royal of his homeland.”

  Shukri waved a wrinkled hand to indicate his surroundings. His whole demeanour was condescending. “He does not belong in this place. With these people.” He gave her a piercing look. Gripping the armrests, his sneer distorted his facial brands. “With you.”

  “Kiss my ass.”

  “Marina,” Koen barked.

  Defiant, she shoved deeper into her seat and flung him a look of reprisal. She thought his rebuke overcautious, but understood he needed this meeting to remain peaceable, which is why she hadn’t pointed south and told him to kiss it too.

  Koen followed the verbal reprisal with a look of severe warning.

  Marina reluctantly heeded it.

  She had no intention of being escorted from the room before she’d guaranteed Boy was to stay with her.

  The Regent observed the gathering with thinned lips. His eyes travelled over the assembly then unfocused, indecisive or merely thoughtful.

  Whatever thoughts muddled his mind had his body slouching deeper into his chair.

  Myron finally sighed, rubbing his face.

  The move disturbed Marina.

  It smacked of surrender.

  “What is it you want, Eldermen?” he asked.

  “Prince Ryuk returned to us,” Shukri answered. “We shall restore him to the people and maintain peace.” His manner took on a benevolent slant. “The munificence of the Dragon Courts to our future leader will not be forgotten nor overlooked.”

  The certainty with which he spoke rubbed her wrong. They hadn’t agreed to anything yet he acted Boy was all but packed.

  Flushed with anger, Marina fidgeted in her seat. She shot a pleading look at Koen Raad.

  He’d yet to speak against what the Eldernmoot demanded.

  Holding up a palm, he bid her to hold her tongue.

  His features were dark with emotion, but his eyes were clear and sharp with purpose. “As much as your words please me, I find myself in the untenable position of risking your ire. Considering the nature of the abuse the youngling suffered when found and the dangerous political uprising within Wasteland the borders, I am not convinced it is safe to allow you to leave with him.”

  “It is perfectly safe,” Shukri said composedly. His eyes betrayed him. “Your concern for one of us is ... touching. Regardless of recent events, Ryuk is not born of your domain. Your protection does not extend to him.”

  “Boy was legally
adopted by High Princess Marina, my mate, and is now a citizen of the Dragon Lands, entirely within the realms of its protection,” Koen’s deep voice filled the room and echoed off the walls. “Do you heed me? He has been claimed as my mate’s offspring. He is my offspring. I do not see how you can sit before me and demand his return after what transpired here in this very Citadel was so shameful, the full story was not made known to avoid a public outcry.”

  Adjusting his crossed legs, Shukri frowned. “We did not abuse the child. He was taken.”

  “We were not made aware of a missing Prince,” Daniil said, shrewdly taking their measure. “We would have searched our own territory to restore him to you. Such an important dignitary would have been brought to my attention. As the Dragon King’s Second, I would have personally led the search.”

  The Eldermon’s jaw tightened. “At the time of his abduction no attempt to recover him was made. We know not how he came here.” His expression turned suspicious. “It was reasoned Dragon Lord’s took him. So as to hold leverage over us at a later date.”

  “No search was made?” the Regent repeated, incredulous at the callous disregard of an innocent.

  Realising he made an error, Eldermon Shukri simply inclined his head.

  Koen stared at the man. He uttered the question Marina was dying to have answered. “Why?”

  “He was a bastard. Traditionally they are not part of the royal enclave.” Eldermon Murtada, a softer spoken, younger man answered when the other balked. He shrugged when Shukri cast him an irate look. Clearly he was the ‘rebel’ of the pair. “That has changed.”

  Koen smoothed a finger over his upper lip. He didn’t succeed in hiding his repugnance. “I see.”

  Marina had less reason to be diplomatic. “I sure as hell don’t.” Her leg flailed above the floor as she tried stomping it. The throne Koen had set her on was damn high.

  Jakob slid a footstool under her dangling foot.

  He nodded in a final show of support then returned to his sentinel position behind her chair, feet braced, hands clasped behind his back.

  Calmer, she met Koen’s annoyed gaze. “They don’t get to dehumanize him then turn up one day claiming we’ve robbed them of something precious. They refused to acknowledge his worth when he was a baby. They’ve admitted they didn’t care enough to even look when he went missing.” She glared angrily across the circle of men. “You want to take him from his home into danger. How is ripping him from people who actually care about him going to do any good in healing the emotional scars he bears from his slavery?