Page 8

8

POISON

A s Mikkel comes to me in the gaming room, I don’t resist it. His dark eyes are intense as he rounds the pool table, closing the distance between us. I stand my ground, knowing I have to let him come to me, rather than the other way around. My cousin Rhennic was right; though my drakes are all strong alphas, in this bond, I’m the most dominant one.

And I have to care for them, encourage them, and let them know I’ve got their backs, in whatever language works best for them. I wasn’t sure what language would work for Mikkel.

Until I just found it—hope.

A strange, careful hope shines in his eyes with a flicker of copper now as he comes to me. As if Mikkel has finally dared to let me see something of his true self at last, he’s almost tentative now as he reaches out a hand to touch me.

It’s just the barest whisper of contact as he strokes back a strand of my hair. The look that goes with it is so striking, hot and wary, so hopeful and full of wretchedness, however, that it makes my head swim, as I feel all those things roaring through his emotions, as well .

And in his dragon-magic, as it swamps me in a tirade.

That vast heave of his aura has us breaking our restraint suddenly. Just as it has happened in the past, our connection crashes us together now, merciless.

In one masterful heave, Mikkel’s got me up on the pool table, his hands digging into my ass, hauling me to him as his mouth devours mine, ferocious. And I’m here for it—I want it—as he scorches my lips with his kiss, so hot and devouring that it burns.

I crash into him also, growling and roaring in my throat as he bites my lips and I bite him back, needing him so hard it hurts. Everything inside me knows Mikkel is the solution to my problem of losing my memories day after day. I know he’s got the power I want and need to bring down the Black Dragon and our enemy Bone Mage drakaina, and fuck over the Knights Council for good.

But as Aesa’s Truthstone explodes with chaos at my chest now, while Mikkel and I kiss like wild banshees and grind against each other with me up on the pool table, I know his power comes at a cost. If I can’t figure out some way to lighten him, to help him re-discover that almost-gone place inside him that wants to be a better person, Bjorn is going to pay for it.

A price I can’t have.

All of that seems distant, though, as we crash into each other’s arms. Mikkel scoops me up one-armed now while I cling to him like a monkey, kissing him all the way, then vaults up onto the pool table with me in his arms.

Pool balls are swept aside. He heaves me down, crushing me into the table on my back with his kiss. His lithe, tall body grinds down hard against me, fucking me, doing me already even though we’re still fully clothed.

As he snarls and seizes his pool cue—cracking it hard against the table and snapping it in half—Mikkel’s got the pool cue up under my chin in half a moment. Pressing down on my throat, he traps me to the table with the cue and his incredible strength .

He leans over, growling all his vast frustration down into my face now. I should be scared, but I’m not; it’s beyond hot how much wrath and violence Mikkel has in his wire-honed, tight body.

I’m trapped, though I could escape anytime. I writhe beneath him, growling back as we lock eyes and I dare him to do more. With a snarl, he presses down harder on the pool cue, just starting to asphyxiate me.

Then shreds my pants open right through the crotch, and his own, with a hand gone to talons.

He thrusts into me, deep. Mikkel groans and I gasp as he takes me. It’s pain, and it’s fury, and it’s complete liberation for us both as I cry out now, wrapping my legs up around his hips.

Throwing back his head, Mikkel cries out as I grip him, beginning to work myself upon him, back and forth. Beginning to move with me, I feel him spiral inward to a place so deep I’m not even sure it has a name.

His dragon lives there; it trumpets in triumph as we move together now, in synch. My inner dragons spiral into one, creating my full Bloodwalker drakaina at last.

Power, both dark and bright, explodes into the gaming room as we take each other. We’re fucking and heaving into each other in a frenzy now as Mikkel tosses the pool cue away. I hear it shatter something as a hammering of security comes at the doors. I don’t even look over as someone, or a few someones, crash into the gaming hall.

They see what we’re doing, then quietly close the doors and stand guard outside. We’re hard, we’re clawing, we’re biting and bestial as Mikkel shreds away all of my clothing now and I let him, reaching up my own hands to rip his nice shirt apart and cast it away.

Naked on the pool table, we rut like animals now. It’s everything I want as flesh heaves and thunders and smacks flesh. He’s long and thick, and it’s good as he takes me, over and over. I don’t know when I blast off into orgasm, but as I do, I feel that infinite Ouroboros braid between Mikkel’s and my energies, solidifying our bond.

Mikkel scoops me up off the pool table now, vaulting us to the nearest wall where he fucks me more. I’m slammed up against the wall, pinned, as he drives up into me over and over. He traps my hands over my head; I’ve got my ankles locked around his butt, feeling him flex hard as he does me, deep.

But even that isn’t enough for him, as Mikkel’s indomitable dragon-energy roars for more. Throwing me down on the floor now, my bare ass on the inlaid stone rather than any nice, comfortable rug, he’s rutting into me harder, as I come, and come, and come.

I don’t know how many times I’ve orgasmed. They all seem a wash now as I hit that high over and over, screaming and roaring my pleasure to the skies, biting his shoulder and neck.

I’m on my hands and knees now as he uses my long hair as a rein in his fist and fucks me from behind; I don’t even care, as I come harder for him, spasming into jelly at his brutal, delicious treatment.

I’m down on my knees; his cock is in my mouth and I’m deep-throating him as he thrusts me upon him, holding my head. In the next moment, he bends me over the edge of the pool table, face-down as he presses me flat by my back to the ripped green felt, fucking me more.

He’s got me trapped to him; his arms are around me now as he bends me back like a bow in his arms, up against the pool table, twisting my nipples viciously as we fuck.

I scream and spasm into orgasm yet again, and he flips me back down to the pool table where we started, as he hauls my legs wide and does me in powerful, non-stop thrusts.

I come one last time, as everything inside me roars to the skies, expanding throughout the gaming room with abandon. Finally, Mikkel can’t stand it; with a roar, he thrusts into me one final time, furious and deep, piercing me to my core as he explodes into orgasm and comes.

He collapses atop me. My most wrathful, most live-wire powerful drake is spent, heaving hard breaths in my arms. And then he laughs, and I laugh, too, stroking my fingers through his wavy dark hair.

And that laugh is everything I want in my life .

“My god, drakaina…!” Mikkel says as we both catch our breath. We’re both sweaty to beat the band, and I’m deliciously sore in the way only tremendously good sex can do, as Mikkel stretches to snag a chenille blanket from a couch near the pool table, tossing it over us so we don’t get chilly.

We cuddle together, and though the pool table isn’t the most comfortable spot to canoodle, it’s fitting, as we both relax in the afterglow. Mikkel laughs as he reaches up now, smoothing my crazy sex hair down as I pick out the elastic that held my braid, fanning my long locks out.

Mikkel runs my hair through his fingers now, obsessed with it like my white-blonde locks are pure gold. I watch him examine me as his dark eyes rove my body, my hair, my face.

Marveling at what he has found.

“I’ve never been able to fuck anyone like that. I’ve always wanted to… but never let myself completely go there. Not even once,” he says at last, as he watches me. A fire of brilliant copper is in his dark eyes now.

And I like it, to the max.

“Hey. First time for everything.” I grin at him, feeling something easy and calm between us at last. Because we needed to get all of that out of our systems before we could finally talk.

There’s a deep camaraderie between us now that I’ve never felt before, even when Mikkel helped us escape certain death in that boat outside of Copenhagen. My memories are crystal-clear after that ridiculously thorough fucking; I can recall everything of the Black Dragon, the Knights, my past, and why we were even down in Copenhagen in the first place.

For the first time since I was cursed.

“I hope it won’t be the last.” Mikkel eyes me candidly now, and I shake my head.

“No. I can guarantee you, it won’t be the last.”

“Good,” he says, then leans down and kisses me thoroughly to prove it to us both.

We have solidified the connection between us; deep inside, I feel our inner dragons rubbing and coiling against each other as they tie one another up in knots, just like Mikkel and I cuddle and entangle now on the table.

Though we didn’t shift, probably due to some kind of Storm Dragon dampening-magic here inside the palace, like at the amphitheater last night, I can feel how deeply our dragons bonded, rather than just our human bodies.

Because for the first time, Mikkel is trusting me, and I’m trusting him, as we hold each other on the ravaged pool table and sigh.

I feel something open up inside him now.

Something that had been long closed and dark.

“You wanted to know L?rke’s and my backstory… so here it is,” Mikkel says softly now as he watches me, and I watch him back, shocked that he’s opening up. We lay on our sides on the table with the blanket draped over us as he palms my hip, grips it, then eases.

“L?rke and I were just babies, one day old, when our parents were killed,” he says. He watches his hand on my hip, rather than gaze into my eyes, and I let him, quiet as he speaks. “But to understand us, you have to start further back, before we were even conceived. You see, our Danish Blood Dragon parents were elite fighters and guard personnel for the Jarl of Copenhagen… but what they really were, were moles. Planting themselves in the Jarl’s ranks because of what the Jarl was doing and opposing him at every turn.”

“What do you mean? What was your Jarl doing that your parents felt they needed to oppose?” I ask, curious and riveted to hear Mikkel and L?rke’s tale at last.

“By now, you’ve understood that the Jarl of Copenhagen does not like Bone Mages, or Bloodwalkers, for that matter.” Mikkel eyeballs me, and I know he has access to my memories of Emil Beck and staying at the Forgyldt Bur , the hotel in Copenhagen that was sympathetic to Bloodwalkers and protecting our kind, in addition to Bone Mages.

“What you don’t know, is that both sides of my family have a long history of both Bloodwalkers and Bone Mages in their ranks—and my father and mother knew that when they met at one of Emil Beck’s events, though they themselves were neither.”

“They understood that any younglings they might have could be either, or both.” I see now as I blink.

“Precisely,” Mikkel eyeballs me again. “Since the Jarl of Copenhagen was unleashing truly diabolical pograms against both kinds of Blood Dragons, trying to wipe us out entirely, at the time, they went underground as fighters into his employ.”

“To try to stop his madness, or fuck it up, if they could,” I say as I understand, watching Mikkel’s dark eyes.

“They did, for many years.” He nods, as a ghost of a smile touches his lips. “They saved many people back then, informing Emil over and over of when the Jarl had planned to do surprise raids, and the like. Emil got people out. If he could not, he protected them inside his hotel. If the hotel was raided with too much firepower, he got people into the tunnels below Copenhagen, ones only he knew, which continue to stump the Jarl to this day, thanks to Emil’s power. Our numbers were growing; our people and Bloodwalkers were flourishing again in Copenhagen—until the Jarl found out what was happening. And had my parents imprisoned for their efforts.”

“It wasn’t just imprisonment, was it?” I ask, as I feel us come to the worst part of Mikkel’s tale.

“No.” He glances at me. “It was torture, for days, weeks, months… but what the Jarl didn’t know was that my mother was already pregnant with me and L?rke. To weather the constant torture and preserve her pregnancy, she put herself into her shifted state, gestating us only as her dragon for all the months it took for us to grow. She masked her pregnancy from the Jarl and his staff with her mind-magics, which L?rke and I inherited. But towards the end, she slipped, and a servant who brought her just enough meals so she didn’t starve saw. That servant was sympathetic to our mother’s plight. Our mother forced our birth that same night, getting th e servant to spirit us away before anyone else knew. And then she died from it… and our father died, too, from feeling his life-mate fail at last, in the Jarl’s cells.”

“You and L?rke were born as your dragons.” I realize it suddenly, so much about the twins now making sense. “Dragons who are born in dragon-form rather than human tend to have copious magical abilities, but almost bestial natures. Most dragons gestate in human form, because it’s far easier to manage, and the chances of everyone surviving the birth are far greater. Your mother did the opposite: ensuring your and L?rke’s survival and strength… while sacrificing her own.”

“Like I told you once before, our mother was a determined drakaina.” Mikkel’s smile is sad now, but also dark, as he recalls it. “Thanks to her mind-magics, we have memories of her and our father, from their entire lives together. We have that, at least; the beauty of their love before they were caught and tortured. But we have all the torture memories, as well… of what the Jarl did to them. Wanting to leave them just alive enough to survive it, and make their torment endless.”

“So you and L?rke were born with vendetta in your veins.” I understand, as a dark knowing fills me. “Not just that, but you were both powerful Bone Mages, your magics enhanced by gestating and being born in dragon-form, rather than human. It makes your dragon’s urges to kill, maim, and destroy dominant… rather than your more human values, morals, and restraint.”

“We’ve learned those things over the years. We had to, to fit in, at least a little.” Mikkel chuckles now, though it’s dark as he continues. “We were delivered to Emil Beck at our mother’s behest; he gave us a place at the Forgyldt Bur, where he protected us as we grew up. We worked there, learned from him, figured out how to be genteel as we nursed our wrath for revenge. Emil shared our wrath; he encouraged it, helping us dig into the seedier elements of Copenhagen society so we could build a name for ourselves, and power, rather than go after the Jarl directly, just yet. We grew up amongst gamblers, thieves, and con-artists, learning how to grift, pull heists. You name it. And when we were ready, we opened our first club—The Chartreuse. Named for our viciously poisonous magic… which ever seeks revenge for what was done to our parents, and to us.”

“Was the Jarl aware of you?” I ask, wondering what the current situation in Copenhagen is.

“Not at first.” Mikkel shakes his head, though his look is dire. “Emil protected us well during our youth until the Jarl finally put two and two together about us. After that, he had it out for us. He sent goons to trap us, assassins to kill us; anything he could think of to catch us in schemes and ruses, and get us out of the way. We held on, protecting each other with Emil’s help. Eventually, after The Chartreuse, we built an empire in foreign locations he could not touch. And because of our association with Emil and the passages under the city, he could never crack our flagship club, either. So he waits now for us to slip up, while we constantly work to undermine him by building a power base so strong, wealthy and connected, that we might overcome him someday. And rip him down from his high seat—leaving us free, at last.”

“Do you and L?rke want it? The Jarldom?” I ask now, curious about Mikkel’s ambitions.

“No. Neither of us wants it,” he says at once, as he glances at me. “We’re content just to bring the Jarl down and let everyone know who the real power is in Copenhagen, letting some patsy vie for the next Jarl’s seat.”

“So this is your long-con.” I whisper my fingertips over his bare chest. “You pay your taxes and give your dues to your Jarl, pretending to play nice while building an army of loyalists. Until it’s time.”

“Until it’s time.” Mikkel nods, then heaves a sigh. “L?rke and I are vicious for retribution, but our Jarl is strong. I’m not sure if he’s a Bone Mage, but he’s powerful in his magic, and well-protected. We can’t match his army yet… but we will.”

“You’re worried, though, that bonding to me and my budding band of heroes will disrupt your end game, rather than further what you want.” I understand, as all the pieces fit together.

“Something like that,” Mikkel says, sighing again. Trapping my hand to his heart, he watches me a long moment. “I want to be with you, Rikyava. Something deep inside me tells me this is right, ever since we met at The Vault. And yet…”

“There’s this question of whether my mates and I will support you in your aims, when the time comes,” I say as I watch him.

“Or if you’ll let L?rke and me do what we need to—when the time comes.” Mikkel’s eyes darken now, and I see all the retribution in him flood back in a tirade.

We had been getting to something that was real and good inside him, with him telling me his tale. Now, it’s almost like we’re right back to square one, as his gaze darkens and the wrath inside him swirls.

I don’t know what he wants to do to the Jarl of Copenhagen once he gets there, but I know it’s nothing good as I gaze into his eyes and see nothing but his inner black dragon.

Poisonous with wrath.

As it makes my dark dragon roil inside me now, livid with my own retribution, I realize why Mikkel is my most challenging drake. He’s not completely human in his aims or instincts, as he roils now with an inner darkness and power I can’t even begin to fathom.

It coils up with mine, making me want the same darkness and destruction as him. I pull away to sit up, and Mikkel lets me.

He watches me with knowing eyes—understanding that darkness inside me is being pushed by his.

I don’t know if he wants me to go there with him; to spiral down into the darkness and never look back. I know that’s the temptation I’m feeling, though, as we watch each other in the late morning, and I feel uncertain where we stand.

Just when things had gotten so good.