Dragon Avenged: Immortal Dragons Epilogue Read online

  After several glorious moments, he slowed and leaned back to gaze at her in adoration.

  “Don’t stop,” she said. “Please.”

  “Don’t worry, I will keep my promise, but this ritual depends on us keeping our heads too. It is almost time for the last phase. Your . . .” He paused and swallowed thickly, then pulled fully out of her. “Your father and his mates are ready to begin when you are.”

  “Are you frightened of him?” Deva asked. She tilted her head back and found a thick root stretching across the edge of the water behind her. Reaching up, she grabbed hold to help support herself. Llyr kept hold of her hips, leaving his erection resting along the inside of her thigh rather than where she wished he was—still inside her.

  “He is partly the reason I’m one of the last of my kind. Of course he terrifies me.”

  Deva’s body chilled slightly and she frowned. “He was not responsible. He killed Meri and helped free us from her.”

  “I know,” Llyr sighed, shaking his head. “And he is my hero for that, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a brutal, skilled warlord, Deva. Any sane person would do anything in their power to stay on his good side. Neph is nothing compared to Nikhil.”

  She released the root and swept her arms through the water to help stay above the surface. Despite the clear worry in Llyr’s eyes, he slipped his hands up her sides again.

  “So we don’t tell him. Or any of them. We’re leaving the Haven after today, so we can go far away and they won’t be the wiser. They don’t need to know.”

  Llyr’s shoulders gradually relaxed. “I hope it’s as easy as that, but until we are finished here, we need to make sure we keep doing our part. Grab that root again.” He tilted his chin behind her.

  Deva reached back and held on, then shot him a questioning look. “Like that?”

  Llyr dipped down in the water until his shoulders were submerged and only his head visible between her knees.

  Deva laughed. “What are you doing?”

  Llyr’s eyes flashed and whirled as he licked his lips. “Continuing my quest to make you come.” His hands appeared once more at her hips and he moved forward, holding onto her backside and lifting her up out of the water. Her knees came to rest on his shoulders as they emerged, and he pressed a kiss to her lower abdomen just beneath her navel.

  Hooking one arm around her thigh and over her hip, he brushed his fingers over the glistening ebony curls that graced her mound. “Keeping to the ursa style?” he asked, lifting his eyes to hers while his fingers continued a light dance across her folds, as though petting her.

  “Is that okay? I like how it looks against my skin. Do you want me more like a nymph?”

  “You can style your yoni however you wish, but I would like to point out that you are part nymph. Perhaps experimentation is in order? The dragons are also mostly hairless. The turul and ursa like the wild look. Did Ozzie like you like this?”

  Her body heated at the suggestion of Ozzie inspecting her nethers with such interest. “I didn’t . . . We have never . . .” She trailed off, not sure how to answer, because she believed he would like her this way, though she had no idea how she knew. But Llyr was right; she should experiment to see what she liked.

  She released her grip on the root above her and reached between her legs. Holding her hand over her mound, she closed her eyes and focused, using the nominal power she possessed to change the appearance of that small, delicate part of her. When she took her hand away, the coolness of the water lapped at her bare skin and she gasped at the sensual nature of the change. It was a stark contrast to the heat that bloomed in her core, which only grew when Llyr’s gaze flicked down.

  “Beautiful. Every inch of you is beautiful. May I taste you?” His eyes met hers once more and her core positively yearned for his mouth.

  “Yes. Please,” she breathed, grabbing hold of the root again and gripping it hard. He squeezed her hips and shifted his hands beneath her ass, lifting her up, then lowered his head and pressed his lips to the top of her cleft in a velvety, decadent kiss.

  He remained like that for a second, his eyes closed. Then his eyelids lifted and a wicked gleam flashed as he met her transfixed gaze. He parted his lips and the hot, wet tip of his tongue snuck out, toying at the very top of her cleft, then slowly moving lower.

  As Deva watched, he tilted his head, moving his luscious mouth over her now naked lower lips in a semblance of a kiss that was beautiful despite its lewdness. He darted his tongue between her folds in delicious little flicks, seeming to gauge her reaction each time he delved deeper until Deva lost herself and could no longer focus. When he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, she cried out, arching her back and bucking her hips up into him.

  Llyr only chuckled and waited for her to recover before resuming. After a torturous interval, he hooked his arm around her hip and used two fingers to spread her open. This time he targeted her clit directly, swirling his tongue in tiny circles as he slipped his other hand between her legs beneath the water. He plunged a finger into her, fucking in and out while he drove her pleasure even higher with his tongue.

  Just when she thought she’d break, he stopped and surged out of the water, looming over her.

  “Why did you stop? I was so close.”

  “Because you were close,” he said. “This is a marathon. We need to pace ourselves. I need to feel you again to keep up.”

  He pushed her thighs wide and slipped between them, his cockhead a more than welcome pressure between her thighs. He pushed into her, easing the longing he’d left her with. His cock was a comfortable, stretching presence, and she sighed as he reached down and lifted her close, holding her tight and kissing her deep as she sank farther down his length.

  Deva opened her eyes to observe his expression and caught the pulsing glow of deep red and vibrant purple in his aura. Soon it rose to a brilliant, almost blinding radiance, and he abruptly pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he set her down in the water.

  “Sweet fuck, I don’t see how dragons do it,” he muttered. “How do you feel?”

  “Ready to explode,” she said.

  “Good. Hold onto that. Come back over here.” He shifted backward to the ledge of roots he’d been resting on earlier and pulled her with him. She settled back on his lap like before, wanting him inside her but understanding that for them to contribute the most power possible to this ritual, they must torture themselves a little longer.

  “Are they ready?” she asked. She was strangely grateful for the less carnal nature of their contact while she prepared to receive the magic from the next phase. She didn’t think any of her parents could know what she and Llyr were doing, but it made it easier to focus if she didn’t have to worry about what her father Nikhil might think.

  Besides, she knew what they were all doing, and despite her age she was a grown woman with as much of a right to pleasure as all of them.

  Llyr’s gaze was fixed in the distance as she settled back on his lap. He seemed pensive, his lips tilted into a frown and his bearing stiff. Deva squeezed his shoulders, then slipped her hands to his cheeks and turned his head to meet his eyes.

  “We can drift away as soon as it’s done. You can send a message to Calder, and he can relay it to Neph. Explore the world with me, Llyr.”

  He forced a smile and nodded. “I would love that. We should find Ozzie first, though. I don’t like the idea of keeping you from him if the two of you share a bond like we do. I can sense it . . . your longing for him.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat at the offer. Could Llyr talk sense into Ozzie? Make him understand how much he meant to her?

  “I would like that.” She would love that.

  At his urging, she lay back and relaxed against his supporting hands. He didn’t tease her this time, which made her aching all the harder to endure when the magic flooded into the pool once again, inundating her with pure, raw power like nothing she had felt before.

  Chapter 18


  “Are you sure these will hold?” Iszak said, twisting a vine around his hand from the collection of loose green tendrils dangling from the lattice roof above them.

  “They are Haven vines,” Belah said. “Not even dragon fire can break them.” She was giddy over the afternoon she and her mates had planned. For the first time in ages, they had the freedom to unleash their true desires. Lukas was busy lighting fragrant candles around the room, though “room” was a rather loose term for the cage they stood within.

  Nikhil stared at their surroundings dubiously. “You say this was one of their prison cells? Fancy prison, if you ask me.”

  “They never really took literal prisoners,” Belah said. “These cages are for . . . entertainment purposes.”

  “Nyx’s episode notwithstanding,” Lukas chuckled.

  “And the vines . . .” Nikhil said, stepping up beside Iszak and tugging on one. “They are linked to the Source?”

  “Every plant here is,” Belah said. “Every ounce of magic we share will be sent to the center of the Haven.”

  She was careful not to remind Nikhil who it was going to. There was no sense rubbing his nose in the fact that his daughter was at the very center of this ritual. He was grouchy enough after hearing her singing off and on for the past couple hours. Belah shared a look with Iszak and Lukas, who both lifted their brows helplessly.

  “I’m not a fucking idiot,” Nikhil grumbled. “And I can tell you three are keeping something from me. It’s about Deva, isn’t it?” He leveled an intense stare at each of them in turn. “Does it have something to do with that song she keeps singing?”

  Iszak and Lukas looked at each other, and Belah sensed Nikhil’s anger rising, his aura flashing with a fiery red that indicated rage rather than lust.

  “Spill or nobody’s getting tied up and whipped,” he said, spearing Belah with a ferocious, yet subtly playful glare.

  Belah hesitated, her brows drawing together as she tried to decide what to say. In one fluid movement, Nikhil stepped toward her, grabbed one of the lengths of vine, and wrapped it around her neck.

  “You will obey me today, little beast,” he commanded. His voice resonated with the promise of the pain she so loved. Both Iszak and Lukas tensed, their gazes fixed to her as she bowed her head. In her periphery, their auras flared. Nikhil’s still burned with his demand, at the very precipice of rage that she knew could easily be diverted into passion he would take out on her body in the best possible way.

  “Speak,” he said, loosening the binding around her neck.

  Belah blinked up at him and obeyed. “Deva is singing a mating song. That’s all.”

  Nikhil shot a look between Iszak and Lukas. “Is this true? I hear her singing all the time and this song sounds no different. When did this start?”

  “When she returned from the realm of the gods with Ozzie,” Iszak said. “We believe she has fallen for him.”

  “Ozzie isn’t in the Haven today,” Nikhil said. “Yet she still sings?”

  Lukas snorted. “Iszak and I sang our song for decades before Belah was even in the picture.”

  Belah stared up at her mate, hoping he would accept the excuses Iszak and Lukas made. She knew he could hear a lie if they told him one, and so did they. She was also sure they knew the song Deva now sang had nothing to do with Ozzie. But Nikhil lacked the turul talent for musical recognition. They’d tried to get him to sing with them or play instruments, but concluded that he was better at commanding an army and wielding a weapon than singing or playing guitar. So Nikhil and Ked both watched their shows from the crowd, with Marcus beside them urging the broody men to cheer the band once in a while.

  Nikhil was far from cheering now, and Belah was certain that if he knew Deva sang for the satyr she was with, that poor satyr’s remaining moments on Earth would be numbered in the single digits. Ozzie, on the other hand, was safely outside the Haven, and with any luck by the time they saw him again, she and her turul mates would have time to calm Nikhil down.

  “We should not have let her remain with him for so long in the realm of the gods,” he grunted. “I believed she was safer there while we sorted out the carnage after the war. Does he return her feelings?”

  “She was safer, my love. Ozzie adores her whether or not he returns her feelings. He would never hurt her.” Belah grasped his wrists and squeezed to emphasize her words. “He is also terrified of you. Please don’t go after him when we leave here. It would serve no purpose but to make your daughter hate you.”

  Nikhil clenched his jaw, the vein in his temple throbbing. Gradually his aura calmed a tiny bit and he gave a quick jerk of his head. “Fine, but the bastard had better stay away from her or I’ll give him a reason to be terrified of me.”

  “My guess is he stayed away today for that very reason,” Lukas said.

  The strains of music that filled the air faded, and with it the remaining tension in Nikhil’s bearing. He tilted his head and smiled at Belah, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You are particularly obedient today, little beast. Does that mean you’re ready to play?

  He handed the end of the vine he held to Iszak and lifted a hand, tracing the upraised scars that graced her chest. His name, written in the curving, graceful script of his birthplace. The place where she had found him. Belah shivered under his touch, remembering the pleasure he’d given her a little over a year ago on the day he’d carved those characters into her skin.

  “You remember, don’t you?” he said in a low voice.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I have the blade. Our dagger.”

  Belah understood his suggestion but shook her head. Ever since their daughter Layla had come into the world, she’d gradually lost interest in many of the games they played. Even with the freedom of a new setting and knowing Layla was safe in the Sanctuary, she didn’t crave the dangerous rush she got when he cut her. And though the sensation of hands or ropes around her throat heightened her desire to unbearable proportions, she no longer sought the oblivion she once had by having him choke her.

  “No. I just need the three of you. That’s all.”

  Beside her Iszak let out an audible breath and Nikhil closed his eyes, nodding. Despite their sadistic natures, neither of them enjoyed the idea of harming her to the point of death, even if they knew they could never actually kill her. Yet they would have done anything to please her, and for that she loved them dearly.

  Nikhil reached behind her and tested the vine that extended from her neck to the latticework of branches above them. The living tendril was securely connected and would not come free. He retrieved the end of it from Iszak and wrapped it once more around her neck, leaving the remaining length dangling down between her breasts against the vibrant blue silk of her gown.

  Then he stepped back, lifted the hem of his t-shirt, and peeled it off over his head. His marks bloomed with power, the bands around his neck and wrists brightening with the desire Belah could easily sense through the link they shared as mates.

  Lukas and Iszak followed his lead, each of them also stripping out of their shirts, their own matching marks on the sides of their necks flashing with brilliant blue magic.

  “Tear off her clothes,” Nikhil commanded, his gaze dark and utterly calm. He wasn’t even aroused, though when Iszak and Lukas stepped closer, their desire was palpable as their auras merged with hers.

  Lukas began to slip a strap off her shoulder when Nikhil made a tutting sound with his tongue. Both the turul stopped and looked at him.

  “I said tear off her clothes. Don’t be gentle about it. We won’t be bleeding her today or taking her to the place she goes when I steal her breath completely. Those acts will remain in the past with the creature who made her hate me for so long. But we will not be gentle with her today.” In a softer voice, he said, “And I don’t think you want us to be gentle, do you, little beast?”

  Belah’s heartbeat echoed in her ears, mirrored in the steady throb between her thighs. “No,” she rasped.

>   “Gotcha,” Iszak said, and in unison he and Lukas twisted their fists in the silk that covered her breasts and yanked hard. The wrenching of fabric jarred her body, jolting her backward a few inches, but the vine around her neck held her, constricting her just enough for her adrenaline to spike deliciously.

  Her breasts sprang free as the fabric ripped down the center all the way to her navel. They switched to the back and again tore down the center until cool, damp air flowed across her ass. At Nikhil’s command, they bent to finish the job, turning her gown into a pile of rags by the time they were done.

  “Bind her wrists with the scraps,” Nikhil said. He had barely moved, still watching her with detached interest, his attention as much on the pair of turul as on her.

  Iszak and Lukas had adapted quickly to Nikhil’s command, obeying him without question. Even during their private, intimate moments, they seemed to understand that seeking Nikhil’s pleasure would by extension fulfill their own, and he never disappointed them. Even Iszak, who had bristled at the idea of being dominated by another male at first, had allowed Nikhil to direct him when Belah was at the center of the three men.

  Now her beloved turul musician took the torn remnants of her dress and carefully wrapped her wrists in twisted knots she was sure were far more elaborate than they felt. She could have easily broken free—it was a conjured dress, after all, and she could dissolve the fabric with a thought if she chose—but where would the fun be in that?

  “Are you ready for pain, ‘Iilahatan?” Nikhil asked, lowering his voice as he took a step toward her and reached out, grazing his finger up the curve of her breast just beneath her nipple. He traced a nail in a small arc along the edge of her areola, just hard enough for her to feel. She let out a small moan, reminded of the pain of the dagger when it had sliced her for the first time on their wedding night and he had bent to suck at her nipple, lapping up the blood that spilled from the cut before it healed.