Page 19

Chapter

Eighteen

DAGHEL

F rustration pierces my stomach with sharp, bitter talons as something terrible stirs and stretches within me. It sinks its claws into my bowels, ripping and tearing even as it draws a haze of confusion through my mind. Need—violent, hungry need—consumes me, eating through me, devouring me as it reaches for her, wanting to devour her. I want to shove my cock into her, pinning her against the wall, pounding into her grasping cunt to the festive toasts of merriment from the villagers. I want, and all I know is that terrible want. It gnaws at me, frustrated that she is more interested in the females passing in the distance, demanding that I make her forget them by filling her and reminding her that it is I who am at her side.

It is such a terrible force that I recoil in horror and spin away from her. Her small sound of surprise destroys me, but I force myself to walk away, quickening my pace to force further distance between us as I attempt to break the coiling darkness choking me. It rose abruptly out of nowhere to viciously attack me, shrieking and clawing at my mind as I met Anya’s accusative stare. While I can pretend that my conscience is not pricked by my mate’s valid concerns, it is the deadly hiss and its venom aiming directly at my mate that shakes me so profoundly.

I drag in breath after breath of icy air in a vain attempt to clear my mind as the darkness roars angrily through me at my defiance. My pulse thuds with a vicious tempo in my ears, black blood filling my vision as I struggle for control. Whatever this thing is that is haunting our clan, it will not win. I recognize it, for it has been as a raven as it has hunted among us, its dark wings carrying it at will to feast upon the fallen and the broken—those carrying its stain and mark already through their own putrescence and violence.

I have little doubt that it is attracted to Vorn’s filth, but it seems that not even the merriment of the lower village can drive it away completely. As far as I have seen and understand, creatures of the shadows are as ghosts dwelling in the dark places between worlds, feasting on the festering rot that they find. It explains why they linger around the upper village, but I cannot fathom their purpose here. Vorn is not here, nor are any of his followers. There is nothing here that would draw such a dark entity, unless it is Anya who attracts it.

And it does want Anya. I cannot fathom why, but I feel its violent hunger as it reaches for her again despite the physical distance between us, wanting to steal every bit of her essence for itself. And that shakes me to the core. It is easier to imagine that it was Drisk’s hunger that drew them like a lure. Guilt stirs within me, rising beneath the confusion raking through my mind. If there is even the smallest chance that this is the case, then its presence is entirely my fault. I am responsible. I had not made certain that either the wyvern or our female were fed before we left. It seemed like such a small matter when the mountains offer much in the way of hunting opportunities for Drisk and the village itself is filled with a multitude of shops, each one boasting delicacies I could feed to our mate until she had eaten her fill.

Yes. That must be it. It has nothing directly to do with Anya. How could it be when it is Drisk’s hunger that is sharp and cruel enough to demolish half the village? In hindsight, it was something I should have seen to before we ever left the rookery. Guilt claws deeper into my innards. Perhaps if I had, the darkness within the shadows would never have followed us into the village. Nor would they have latched onto me when Anya encountered the comfort maidens. And now it will probably be a cause of torment for the people here as it feasts and feeds, shredding their joys to glut itself on their sorrow. I growl in frustration and forcefully shake my head as the darkness releases its grip in a whisper.

The relief I feel is instantaneous, and I once again breathe deeply of the cold air, allowing it to clear my mind. Drisk must be the cause. I will have to tell him of my suspicions and see to it that he leaves the rookery to feed more frequently so that it will not afflict us.

No matter, it will not feed on me now that I have regained control. Not when I have something far more important that requires me to be whole and sane, unafflicted by the darkness’s madness—namely caring for my wyva. Which, at this moment, means feeding her. The tension within me eases with the banishment of the shadows and I attentively turn my entire focus to the task. I will not see Anya go hungry for even a moment longer. Especially not after seeing her face light up upon entering the village. It was abundantly clear that she scented something in the air which had intrigued her. That was before the darkness, the madness, and the comfort maidens—Vepra fling all of it to the abyss! That is not how I wished our time together in the village to proceed when I wanted nothing more than to sate her immediate hunger while kindling another for later. And now that my mind is clear, I believe I have the source of the smell.

I turn toward a building just ahead boasting a large window warmed by the golden cast of firelight contained within. A faint smile touches my lips. It looks like exactly the sort of place my temperature-sensitive female would enjoy. Though it is only a short distance away, I do not blindly hurry toward it. My gaze sweeps repeatedly over the street as I make my approach, my pace a brisk but steady clip, as I keep an attentive eye on my surroundings—especially my mate hurrying to catch up with me.

Now that I’m no longer in the grip of the darkness, I allow my steps to slow to a stop as I wait for her to rejoin me. I had not wished to abandon her. Not even in the grip of the darkness did I wish to do so. I can only hope that she thinks nothing of it and does not question it. I do not wish her to know about the violent need that had consumed me almost to the point of insanity.

As I wait, my ears pricking at the sound of her footsteps as her pace picks up with the realization that I am waiting, my nostrils flare at the aroma of spices, rich, creamy goat’s butter, and the warm musky scent of bread from the shop in front of me. My eyes drop to the display in the window. A bakery—is this what intrigued her so?

I do not understand the appeal when roasted meat dripping with juices would have inspired my hunger far more than the sweets contained within these doors. Yet, this was the only shop within scenting distance of a human’s weak nose. It had to be it.

“Daghel, thank goodness. I didn’t think I would ever catch up,” she pants as she comes to a stop at my side and doubles over, struggling to catch her breath. “Just so you know, running in these layers is not a great joy.”

I glance down at her sympathetically, an apology on my lips, when suddenly her nose wrinkles and her eyes widen with delight as a smile stretches across her face. She comes close to shoving me entirely out of the way as she pushes ahead to the shop.

“A bakery! I thought that was what I smelled.” Her laughter falls excitedly from her lips, and despite being set off balance, another smile creeps onto my face at the concentrated glow of her pleasure that she turns on me. “Do we have time to go in?”

“Of course,” I reply. “You are hungry, are you not? I must see to my female being satisfied in all ways.”

A red flush creeps into the pinkness already staining her cheeks from the cold air, but I am so charmed by it that something flutters and awakens within me when she stands on her toes to brush a kiss against my cheek.

“I will be sure to return the favor,” she whispers before lowering once more to the flats of her feet.

I move to drag her back into my arms and inquire more about this favor, but she laughingly dances out of my reach before hurrying into the bakery. Amused, I follow her into the shop docilely as I turn her loose upon the proprietors. I do not need to take the lead in this matter. I am content to remain her shadow as she gleefully descends up them, catching the male behind the counter off guard by her enthusiasm as she proceeds to order enough to feed a half-dozen families. I smirk, imagining the way Drisk will grumble when he sees all that we will be returning with.

Arms crossing indulgently over my chest, I lean against a support beam and watch with amusement as the baker fills a large basket with sweet bread after sweet bread and a selection of pastries with every new thing my female discovers. Although the male is initially wary because of my presence, and his eyes frequently shift to me as if wondering what a drehl is doing in the lower village, he gets into the spirit quickly and relaxes under the spell of my mate’s idle chatter. She has a talent for this, I realize. In contrast to my surliness, she is like a warm, inviting hearth, drawing those to her like so many moths to a flame. Of course, such a fire is also death to the moths, but they do not seem to realize it, and in truth, Anya is content enough that she is unlikely to harm her admirer as he dances around her.

I might harm him, but that is another matter and entirely dependent on just how far he dares to go. I patiently drum my claws on my biceps as I wait, and that seems enough of a reminder for the male not to become too smitten.

“The drehl is your mate, is he?” he inquires—almost too politely—but my mate’s sweet laughter brushes away whatever offense I felt rising in response to it.

“Oh yes. Daghel and Drisk… they are both mine,” she replies cheerfully and with a pride that warms the cockles of my withered, blackened heart.

“Daghel… an appropriate name, I would say, and a gathol at that, from what you say. That male certainly looks like the embodiment of death,” he grumbles as he glances over at me again, and I meet his eyes with a hard smile.

The male shivers in response and bends his head to focus on his task while my mate continues to talk about everything under the sun with a feigned exuberance that I know is partially for show in order to take advantage of local gossips. She is not only charismatic but cunning, my lovely little wyva.

Settling back against the beam once more, I leave Anya to her game as my gaze drifts toward the activity on the street. There are a surprising number of human females mixed among the females of my people. Since when had our raids returned with so many? Granted, it has been six years since I have been this far down the mountains when not raiding, but it catches me by surprise. My eyes narrow as I peer at them, and a coldness draws around me as I feel the wispy smoke of darkness invading me once more. To my relief, it does not attempt to consume my will and possess me like it did before. Instead, it is merely a light touch from a distance. But it is enough that its presence triggers a violent response within me.

I catch sight of the wraithlike shadowy form of the darkness moving among the dimly lit edges of the festivities. Vaporous black tendrils rise and twist from a vague form of a tall, powerful male whose head turns to watch the activity of orcs and humans on the street. Its movements are predatory, almost imperceptible, amidst its perfect stillness. A feeling of death whispers from it, and I feel as if a vise is squeezing around my heart as I struggle to draw a breath. It straightens then and turns its head toward me. I can feel the penetrating blackness of its stare as I get the impression of a broad smile stretching over its face as it stares back at me. Silently bidding me to let it in. The instinct to accept is nearly overpowering, but I grit my teeth and battle against it, refusing to succumb.

The sound of nearby laughter jolts through me and my head instinctively turns toward it, my senses zealously narrowing in on the source as my hand goes to my side, reaching for my weapon. I catch myself just in time and draw my hand away as my gaze falls on a bulky male entering with his rosy-cheeked mate. The female laughs in response to something he murmurs into her ear, but her laughter dies as the couple’s gaze turns toward me. The male immediately bristles as if sensing a threat from me—but I am accustomed to this reaction. I do nothing more than lift an eyebrow when his arm tightens around her and he hurries her further into the shop, putting a fair amount of distance between them and me.

Absurd. As if I am more of a threat than that thing out there… and they cannot even seem to see it. My lip curling, I whirl back around, but the darkness is gone, leaving not even a trace that its presence was once there. Strange. It had been hunting and yet no alarm went up. No screams of terror as it possessed the innocent to feed. Perhaps the merriment had been effective on the darkness as it was said to be on the spirit of Durethikal. It is a puzzle but one I relinquish when Anya’s hand settles on my forearm, drawing my gaze down to her smiling face. Possessiveness rises within me at that smile, and a need to stamp my claim and bellow it out in defiance. It shall never take her from me.

“Hey, are you ready?”

I incline my head in agreement and offer my arm as she hugs her basket to her. “Did you get what you hungered for?”

“Almost,” she teases, and my cock tightens with interest in my surc.

“I have an idea of something that can completely satisfy you,” I purr as we step back out onto the street.

She glances over at me with an intrigued smile, and without hesitation, I take the lead, relying on memories from a great many years past as I draw her down the road, herding her into a hidden little alcove off the street. Her eyes dance with warmth as I take her basket and set it on an iced-over edge of a fountain, but not before reaching within it and removing a sticky, sweet roll that smells of cinnamon and sugar. The icing smears on my fingers, and her tongue trails over them, licking up the sweetness. I press the roll to her lips, and she opens with a moan as I fill her mouth with it.

“Satisfy your hunger, wyva, and I will take care of the other,” I growl, delving beneath her skirts for the delectable heat blossoming between her legs.

She bites into it and shivers as I lean into her, backing her forcibly against the stone wall as her lust curls around me and teases my senses. I hold her there with one hand, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure as she slowly eats the roll, as the other delves into a gap in my surc’s fabric to grasp my cock. A quiver of pleasure runs through me, and I cannot resist stroking it a few times as my hunger roars forth, this time wholly me and untainted.

Pulling my cock free with one hand, I turn her to face the wall, dragging her round bottom to me. I cannot see its fine shape concealed as it is beneath the fabric, but when my hands delve beneath her skirts to her warm, silky skin, I grasp it firmly in my palms, spreading the globes wide as my cock nestles against the wet scrap of material covering her slit. Pushing it aside with an impatient hand, I guide my length into her and rock forward, hissing with pleasure at the sound of her choked squeal around her mouth full of sweets as I plunder her drenching cunt that opens so hungrily for me.

I take her against the wall, my hips swiveling in a rapid tempo, her pleased moans rising amid the slurping sounds of her sex on my cock and her lips dragging the bits of sugar and spice from her fingers. It is a maddeningly erotic sound that only makes me drive into her harder, following the gnawing path of our hunger until her cunt seizes tightly around me, triggering an electric spark rushing through me, milking the hot streams of cum from my balls as we shout our completion together.

A soft growl parts from my lips as my cock twitches in her tight clutch, delivering another thick stream. I lean forward, my body covering hers, and I press a kiss to her sweaty brow. Darkness stalking us or not, she is ours and may the gods pity anyone who tries to separate us.