Page 5 of Storm of Blood and Shadow (Merciless Dragons #3)

The grassy spot I chose is a forested hollow high in the mountains. Its position allows it to drink the sun’s warmth throughout the day, and a trickling stream feeds the earth there. It’s a fertile nook, a secret retreat of mine when I’m particularly weary or sad. There are no voratrice dens, nor do the wolves usually climb the rocky slopes to invade the place, hidden as it is. Though the trees are thick, there’s enough of a clearing to allow a single dragon to land.

I have not been able to sleep well for many days, even before the events at Guilhorn. But being home on Ouroskelle, so close to the bones of my ancestors, in this familiar haven, brings peace to my soul. My captive’s breathing has slowed and quieted, and the knowledge that she feels safe enough to sleep is a balm to my sore heart.

In my dreams, the girl’s red hair grows into a river of scarlet silk, sweet and lush. I swim through it, trying to reach her, but she keeps retreating farther and farther away, until a dragon twenty times bigger than me bursts out of the red river, his granite jaws wide. He catches her in his teeth, tears her small body, and swallows her tortured screams.

I startle awake, choking on my void magic. The sizzling orb sticks in my throat, and I strain, trying to keep it in.

The girl awakens, too, and she shrinks away as my body hardens with a violent spasm. I rise on all fours, unable to restrain my magic any longer. Stretching my neck to its full height, I throw back my head and release the void orb into the sky. It sears off the ends of several branches as it shoots upward, but otherwise it implodes harmlessly.

My body tremors, and my heart is racing. My breath explodes between my jaws in frantic bursts tinged with purple light.

The girl is on her feet, silent and still, watchfully assessing my behavior. “A nightmare?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m quite familiar with how people act after a night terror, and though you’re not a person , the behavior is similar. Why don’t you take some deep breaths?” Her tone is a wry echo of my earlier advice to her.

“Fair enough.” I flop back onto the grass and focus on slowing my breathing and my heartbeat. “My brother Kyreagan had a similar episode earlier tonight, only his panic wasn’t caused by a dream. He was afraid to face the family of his Promised without a bone of hers to offer them.”

The girl seats herself on the grass, listening.

“He has been the strength of our clan for so long, even when our sister was alive,” I continue. “She handled much of the strategizing and communication with Vohrain, but Kyreagan has always been the mighty one, our leader, whether he will admit it or not. Everyone looks to him, not to me. I was glad to be there for him in his moment of weakness.”

“It’s not weak to react physically to fear or stress,” the girl says. “It’s normal.”

“Not among dragons.” I sigh heavily. “I saw males weeping today, both primes and elders. That’s something we never do.”

“Primes and elders?”

“Primes are adult dragons between twenty-four and seventy-nine. Any dragon older than eighty is considered an elder.”

“So you and your brother Kyreagan are Primes?”

“Yes. We are the same age, hatched during the same season. He came out of his egg first, then Vylar. I was weeks late—the youngest one, with a disappointingly docile temperament and strange magic.” I chuckle ruefully.

“In my family, I’m the oldest,” she replies. “The one who is supposed to take care of things. The one who supports everyone, keeps food on the table, fixes whatever breaks, and makes sure the children get some semblance of an education, all while spending hours at the palace, rehearsing, preparing, waiting in case we’re called upon.”

“What did you do at the palace?”

She lies down in the thick grass, on her back, staring up at the night sky. In an hour or so, the first blush of dawn will suffuse the sky, and we will have to face another day.

“I was a dancer,” she says, so softly I almost don’t catch the words.

“I would like to see you dance someday.”

“I’m sure you would. You’re strangely obsessed, considering you saw me for the first time this afternoon.”

“That’s me,” I say grimly. “The strange one. The perverted one. The one with a vast nothing at my core.” A faint purple mist rises from my nostrils.

“How does your magic work?” she asks.

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Well, you woke me up.” She yawns and tucks one arm beneath her head. “The least you can do is lull me back to sleep with that deep voice of yours.”

I rumble and coil myself more closely around her. “It’s more likely that after I tell you, you’ll be too scared to sleep here, with me.”

“This is far safer than other places I’ve slept, trust me.”

I champ my jaws and thrash my tail restlessly, unsettled by her words. “Have you been hurt or betrayed many times?”

“Yes.” One word, quietly spoken, strength and sorrow in her tone.

In my life I’ve known many strong, clever dragons whom I admired greatly. But never have I encountered someone like this, whose fragile form contains such power of spirit. I can practically taste the scars on her heart, and yet it beats strong and sure, steadier than mine, I swear.

I have already chosen her. Perhaps I should trust her as well.

“I’ve spoken with many other dragons, and none have described their magic the way mine feels,” I tell her. “Their flames, frost-fire, water magic, or other intrinsic abilities are a natural expression of themselves. My void magic is an enemy I carry inside me, a vast emptiness crawling along the edges of my soul, a blistering threat. I must restrain it at all times lest it burst out of me and swallow everything I love.”

“Yet you use it,” she says. “You used it in battle, and you used it today, on the men who were hurting me. You seemed so precise with it.”

“I’ve learned to control it… most of the time.”

“How does it feel when you use it?”

I hesitate, trying to find the right words. “I carve out bubbles of the void from within myself—orbs that are the right size for the task. Then I encase them in lightning and direct them from my throat like a bolt from a crossbow. Sometimes, when I feel a great surge of emotion, some of the void separates itself from the rest and lurches out of me.”

“Like a burp,” she says.

“A burp?”

“Oh god, don’t make me demonstrate.” She laughs a little. “As long as you don’t feel any more panic-burps coming on, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep. I need to be well-rested if I’m going to kill you and escape.”

“Naturally,” I reply. “I have no doubt you’ll devise the perfect method for ending my life.”

I dream again, this time of mating her. I’ve never fucked anything, but I’ve seen animals coupling, and though my rational mind knows my body isn’t compatible with the girl’s, my subconscious alters reality, permitting me to rut deep inside her. My seed gushes into her body, a slow, pumping release, until she is filled and swollen with it.

Movement against my neck jerks me out of the dream, back to reality. Warm sunshine filters through the green trees, giving the grassy hollow a verdant luminosity, an emerald haze. I can feel the golden heat on the edges of my wings.

My captive is lying against me, her body draped partly over my neck. I can feel the pressure of her arms and chest against my scales. She’s stirring, realizing how close she crept to me in the night. She pushes herself up and moves away.

I lift my head, surveying her. Her cheeks grow pink and she pushes back her red hair, which must have come out of its braid during the night. Unbound, it’s as glorious as I imagined.

My cock pulses, and I realize abruptly that it’s hard, hot, and partly extruded from my genital slit.

The girl follows my gaze and notices the same thing.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers.

I launch myself upright and snarl at her so viciously she blanches and backs away. Pinning my wings tightly to my back, I bound off into the trees.

I can’t go far, because even with my wings folded, trying to get through a forest is not easy for a beast of my size.

From the clearing, the girl calls, “You shouldn’t leave me alone.”

I snarl again.

“You’re going to make me come after you, aren’t you?” she groans. “Fuck you, dragon.”

I’m not ready to face her, so I remain among the trees, my claws sunk into the turf while I breathe deeply and try to think about anything except her body… which means all I can picture is her naked form.

“Plenty of males are aroused in the morning.” Her voice is nearer now, and when I turn my head, I see her hobbling toward me with the help of a tall stick. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Why are you walking like that?” I ask. “Are you wounded?”

“In so many ways,” she says dryly. “The worst injury at the moment is my ankle. That one isn’t your fault. And neither is that.” She nods in the direction of my genitals.

“A male’s cock should only react like this during mating season,” I hiss through my teeth. “Now you know the truth. I am a deviant among my kind. I was hatched late, and I developed wrong. My parents should have pushed my egg into the sea when they had the chance. If they had, my mother would still be alive, instead of rotting in a monster’s gut.”

Fuck, I didn’t intend to say the last part aloud. Something about her makes me want to confess every secret I’ve ever held close, which is foolish and dangerous.

The girl’s brown eyes widen, morning sunshine pooling in their depths like honey in the hollow of a stone. Her blue dress has slipped off one shoulder, and the effect is making my cock harder than ever.

“I need you to go away,” I growl.

But she doesn’t. And I don’t like the wicked smile that tugs at one side of her mouth.

Leaning on her stick, she moves along my side, toward my flank.

“It’s huge,” she says. “The same color as your scales. And smooth, like black satin. Rather pretty as cocks go. Why are you ashamed of it?”

A shudder runs over my body. I desperately want to flee from her, and in equal measure I desperately want her to touch me.

When I don’t answer, she says, “You’ve been trained to feel shame about your differences, the same way you’ve been taught to follow your brother and your clan without question. Did you really think it was a good idea to snatch human women and bring them to this island?”

An uncertain rumble is my only reply.

“I suspect you’re wiser and kinder than your brother,” she says softly. “Why would you follow him when he led your clan to war and got half of you killed? Why would you—”

“That wasn’t his fault,” I snarl.

She steps forward, reaches beneath my belly, and sweeps her hand along the surface of my cock.

The thrill that runs through me at her touch is sharper, wilder, and more exquisite than anything I’ve ever felt. I groan deep in my chest, and my cock bobs heavily.

“Interesting,” croons the girl. “I think I found a sensitive spot, after all.”