Page 3

Neith

M y hands follow the path of my eyes, and his stomach muscles twitch as his head tips back, and he groans. I’m about to pull him back down to me when a new tattoo on his chest catches my eye.

It’s not new as in it’s just been done, but it is new to me.

It wasn’t there the last time that I saw him shirtless, and this isn’t the first time we have played.

My fingers lift and brush over the scar on his shoulder, surrounded by the outline of a heart made out of my favorite flowers, with the words my always written underneath in my handwriting.

I used to write notes to him all the time when I went to the keep, he’d sign his notes to me with Forever, and I would sign mine with Always.

The scar is one I gave him.

It was thanks to training that had gone slightly awry, he didn’t move quickly enough, obviously, and I managed to skewer him. We were sparing with dragon blood blades, which are the only weapons that can scar a dragon.

I look up at him, and he shrugs like it’s not a big deal. It is though, it really fucking is.

“My turn to play,” he grins.

He once again leans forward, and his lips meeting mine. I kiss him with every emotion that I am feeling and have always felt for him, and he does the same, that kiss says everything that neither of us has been able to say.

His lips leave mine as they trail across my jaw and down my body, leaving a searing hot path in their wake.

He tears my pants and underwear from me in one swift tug, and I have never been more grateful for the flimsiness of leggings.

His hands caress from my ankle to my thighs, where they grip tightly, and I watch as he smiles.

His fingers pump inside me, as his tongue finds my clit, moving slowly as he gradually builds my need for him, my back arches as my head falls back, and waves of intense pleasure roll through me.

I don’t know how he fucking knows, but every time I near the edge of oblivion, he pulls back his lips kissing between my hips and down the inside my thighs, before he finds my clit with his tongue again.

“Coen,” I practically growl when he does it again.

He chuckles, his mouth still buried in my pussy. He lifts his head, glancing up at me, his eyes filled with heat as they flash to those of when he’s shifted and back again. You would think that his dragon eyes would scare me, but I could never fear any part of Coen.

My hands thread through his hair, pulling tightly as his fingers pick up speed, my pussy clenching around them as my orgasm builds really fucking quickly.

His other hand trails up my stomach, palming my boob before his fingers find my nipple, and at the same time he pinches my nipple and sucks my clit.

I detonate.

My release consumes me, and Coen’s lips are replaced with his fingers as he helps me ride out the last moments of the most explosive orgasm I have ever fucking had in my life.

He crawls up my body, his lips kissing every inch of me as I slowly come down from the epic high that he has just given me.

When he gets level with me, he kisses me softly and gently, making me feel how I always feel when he kisses me like this and then he gathers me in his arms, wrapping me up tightly, as I rest my head over his heart, and my tattoo before he pulls the covers over me to keep me warm.

I luxuriate in the feeling of finally being held by him after so long of missing him.

Far sooner than I would have liked, he tenses, his whole body changing from being relaxed, his heartbeat steady, to it pounding like he’s running a marathon and a rumble building in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, as I sit up and look down at him.

His eyes study my face in a way that makes me nervous. It’s like he’s trying to memorize my features. Almost as if he’s worried that he won’t see them again. He stands up and I move with him.

Coen

“I want to stay, you have no idea how much I want to stay, Love, but I can’t. I don’t have a choice,” I tell her, kissing her gently and pouring all of the emotions that I’m feeling into it.

Her eyes flash with such fury that my hands clench to stop myself from reaching for her again. I love that she gets so angry on my behalf, and I know that she would not only torture him, but kill him if she knew the half of what he’s done.

Her hands cradle my face and my eyes close, feeling content and at peace for the first time in fuck knows how long.

Resting her forehead on mine, she says, “I’ve got this, Coen. I’m going to fix it, and then I’m going to enjoy watching you pull him apart.”

My eyes flash to my dragon, and I pull her in, holding her closely, “I love that you know that I want to do that.”

She chuckles, “Of course I do. I know you.”

The command to come back grates on my insides, and I growl, “I’ve got to go.”

She nods and steps back, a heavy frown on her face. I’m hoping that one day I won’t have to leave her like this. Maybe even one day I can even promise that I’ll be back soon. I can’t do that right now, and that kills me.

Leaving her standing in her room is hard, really fucking hard, and the only reason that I manage to walk out of the door is because of the fucking command that’s forcing me to do so.

Neith

W atching him go is really fucking hard and I struggle not to go after him, but I know that it wouldn’t do any good if I do.

He made it clear that he doesn’t want to leave, which means he doesn’t have a choice.

While I hate that he’s leaving when he doesn’t want to, I am extremely happy that I got that time with him.

It’s no secret that I have missed him like crazy.

It’s not until the door has closed behind him and I’ve laid in the bed for a few moments, that I realize that he very successfully distracted me from my question and that he didn’t appear to be hurt when he took his shirt off.

However, I know Coen. I’ve been in enough situations with him where we have been in danger, and he has ended up hurt, and I know that he was in pain when he first arrived, which means he distracted me so that he could heal.

It also means that when we finally break the control, if Coen doesn’t kill Kylen, then I will.

Slowly, and torturously, and ensuring that he is begging for death for weeks before I actually allow him that mercy.

I sigh and push away my murderous thoughts.

Unfortunately, I need to focus on the here and now, and that means I need to get up, shower, and get dressed fully again just in case I get pulled into a task in the middle of the night again.

I would say ‘well, at least the next task should be with my guys’, but there’s no way of knowing how the Choosing arranges these things, and there’s a big chance that it could be another task with the Draconian team.

Woohoo.

Rushing through the shower now that I’m exhausted, I struggle to put my clothes on, cursing up a storm when I fall over for the third time and then head back into the room and practically fall onto the bed, I really hope that I get a decent amount of sleep before the next task, I need it.

Dimitri

I don’t know why they’ve let me watch the Choosing.

Maybe they think that it’s some sort of treat or something.

Maybe someone high up knows something that I don’t, but what I’m sure they aren’t expecting is the level of torture that I’m experiencing by watching it.

One, because of watching Neith in danger, but also because of Coen.

My other best friend, I am one hundred percent certain that he’s being controlled in a similar way to me, and it makes me murderously angry.

Of course, even that can’t make me as angry as watching the soon to be dead cunt deliberately throwing Neith under the bus and endangering her life.

It makes me so fucking mad that I very nearly lose control of my hellhound and considering where I am, that would be a very bad thing.

I would quickly find myself in a lab instead of in a prison.

That massive burst of magic that accompanied my anger though, helped to burn through the last of the poison from the dart that Casimir shot me with when I got arrested, quicker than it usually does, which means I am almost completely free of it.

While I hate that I’m in here and I can’t help Neith, there’s nothing that I could do about her situation if I were out, and being in here means that Casimir can’t reach me.

He has no idea that I’m able to push through the poison.

It’s not supposed to be possible, and the only reason I can is because of the old woman who visited me in my dreams, and Neith.

Always Neith.

Although it’s too little, too late as far as she’s concerned.

That doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop keeping her safe and trying to make it up to her, for as long as I’m alive.

I’m glad that whatever is controlling Coen isn’t strong enough to hinder his instincts when it comes to Neith, because it saved her life.

I don’t know what would have happened if I had watched her die again.

The only thing that would have stopped me from going nuclear is that she has died before and come back.

It would not be good if she had died on the broadcast. That would have painted a huge target on her back. Bigger than the one that she already has there.

I’m not surprised at all that she’s managed to get an enchanted weapon to be loyal to her, I am however surprised that Betty appears to be becoming one.

Although, in a way, it doesn’t surprise me at all, she loves that gun, and talks to her like she has always been enchanted, so in a weird way it makes sense that Betty is now enchanted.