Текст книги "On wings of blood"

Автор книги: Briar Boleyn

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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

CHAPTER 41 – MEDRA

I was shaking as I left the room, quivering with rage.

Blake Drakharrow could go straight to hell.

I swiped at my face, feeling the wetness on my hand. I wiped it away savagely. My emotions were a tangled mess. A knot of anger, hurt, and something else I didn’t want to even try to name.

I found a bench along the corridor outside the refectory and sank down onto it, leaning back against the cold stone wall.

I could still feel the press of Blake’s hands, lingering on my waist, and I hated it.

Students were beginning to trickle out of the ballroom, their laughter and chatter spilling into the hall.

I saw some couples sink into the shadows, their arms wrapped around one another. Some ran past me, giggling, hand in hand. Apparently the Dance of the Longest Night was also a great night for getting someone into your bed.

I hadn’t even said goodnight to Kage. Part of me didn’t want to. Who knew what he was expecting, what he might feel he was entitled to. But I had to give him credit. He’d been a perfect gentleman all evening, which was more than I could say for Blake.

I pressed myself further back on the bench, part of me just wanting to disappear. But then I saw Florence emerge from the ballroom.

“Medra, are you all right?” Florence asked, as she came over. “You rushed out so fast...”

I tried to smile. “I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

“Blake was being an asshole again?” she asked sympathetically.

I nodded. It was easier than telling her exactly what had happened. “How did your night go? Where’s Naveen?”

Florence glanced back. “He’s still inside, helping the ensemble pack up.”

With a pang of guilt, I realized I hadn’t even paid attention to Naveen’s solo. I’d been too absorbed in my own problems, first distracted by Kage, then by Blake. Naveen must have performed it while I was dancing with Blake.

I hadn’t heard a single note.

“I didn’t even really hear his solo,” I admitted. “I feel terrible.”

“He’ll understand,” Florence reassured me. “He probably won't even ask you about it. It went really well though. He played beautifully. Not a single wrong note. He looked so happy. Don’t worry, Medra. He had a good evening. This was everything he wanted.”

I studied her face. “Really? Everything? Did he...say anything to you?”

Her nose scrunched. “Like what?”

I sighed. That was a “no” then. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

“Come on, walk back to the First Year tower with me. We can sit in the Common Room and listen to everyone gossip about their night,” Florence suggested. She winked. “And you can tell me all about Kage Tanaka and Blake Drakharrow fighting over you.”

I groaned. “Not sure if that’s something I really want to relive.”

My eyes caught movement from behind her. Blake had just exited the refectory. There was a bottle of red liquor in his hand. I watched as he tipped it to his lips. His movements seemed slower than usual, languid, as if he’d already had too much to drink.

My pulse quickened. This was my chance.

Florence was still standing there waiting for me.

“Go on without me,” I said quickly. “I’m going to go for a walk. Clear my head. I’ll meet you back in the Common Room later."

Florence hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, really,” I said. “I'll see you back there.”

Florence nodded and left me sitting in the shadows.

Blake was heading in the opposite direction, away from me, and I thought I had a pretty good idea of where he was going.

I waited until Florence disappeared down the opposite end of the hallway before I stood up and began to follow Blake.

He was halfway down the corridor now, his gait slightly unsteady. Clearly he was intent on drowning his sorrows in that bottle he was drinking from.

I’d have to be careful. He was probably furious with me. I’d humiliated him, and not just once tonight, but repeatedly.

I trailed him through the winding corridors of the academy, moving steadily but cautiously. One wrong move and he might sense me. I had no idea how much the liquor he was drinking would actually dull his vampire senses.

When we reached the Dragon Court I smiled in satisfaction. My guess had been correct.

It was cold in the courtyard. I was still only dressed in the gown from Kage and the winter chill was biting. Even so, I hung back, watching as Blake moved toward the opening to the secret stairwell. I waited until the last possible moment before darting down after him, the passage closing over my head as I ducked inside.

The air was warmer the further down I went. This time I knew the way. But only to a point.

I knew Blake wasn’t going to take the same path tonight.

But I also couldn’t risk running right into him in the dark. I held back, listening for his footsteps, then matching my pace to his.

Eventually we reached the vaulted chamber where the massive dragon skull loomed in silence.

I hung back, watching as he strode right to the arched doorway labeled House Orphos.

I followed at a distance as he moved through the Orphos catacombs where the skulls of the house’s long-dead dragons lay asleep in their alcoves, hollow eyes looking out into darkness.

The catacombs finally ended and Blake moved into a deeper tunnel. We descended, step after step, down endless narrow passages. The temperature dropped and the scent of mildew and brine filled the air. I knew we must be heading beneath sea level again, just like before. But this time I was betting we wouldn’t end up in Veilmar.

Eventually, I lost the sound of Blake’s footsteps. I hung back, waiting to see if I could pick them up again. Either he’d gone on too far ahead of me to hear them or he’d paused because he’d heard me behind him.

Finally, I had to risk it. I moved on.

There was no one ahead of me. The passage was empty.

The tunnel I was in continued to stretch ahead. I must have walked for at least an hour in the darkness, pressed in on all sides, knowing that above me was only a layer of rock protecting me from the entire weight of the sea.

Just when I felt like I couldn’t take the confinement any longer, I found myself ascending. Steep, curving stairs took me higher and higher. My legs burned from the climb. As I rose, the walls gradually began to change. The rough, damp stone gave way to polished white marble. Torches appeared at intervals in iron sconces along the walls.

The stairs ended. I was on a landing but there were no doors. No hatches that I could see. Blank white marble walls surrounded me.

But I knew I was in the right place when I spotted the bottle of liquor Blake had been holding, tucked away in one of the corners.

Before I could change my mind, I reached for the bottle and took a long swig. I choked. It was strong stuff. I felt it go straight to my head. I took another swallow. I needed courage tonight and if this was what was doing it for Blake, I’d have to hope it would do the same for me.

I noticed a slight indentation in one of the marble walls, barely discernible. I pressed my hand against it.

There was a soft click and a panel slid open, just a crack. I wedged my hand in and pulled it towards me, then looked out. No one was around.

I stepped out, pulling the panel almost all the way shut behind me.

Just as I’d expected, I’d emerged in the Sanctum of the Bloodmaiden. But this time, I was in a completely different part of the temple. One of the upper levels.

A balcony wrapped around the mezzanine on which I stood, overlooking a vast, open courtyard below.

Soaring marble columns ringed the space. Tall white candles lined the edges of the balcony, casting a warm glow across the pale marble. Vines covered with lush white flowers draped along the railings.

I took a step forward, holding my breath. Blake was nowhere in sight. But no one else seemed to be up on this level either.

I crept towards the balcony rail, my heart pounding in my chest. Reaching it, I crouched down low, and peered through the balusters.

At least two stories below the level on which I crouched, a group of highbloods had gathered. They wore long black robes and silver masks that covered their eyes and the upper part of their faces, leaving only their mouths exposed.

In the very center of the courtyard stood a large silver bowl, sitting atop a pedestal. Silver chains hung down over it from the ceiling above, swaying ever so slightly.

On the far side of the courtyard, a black throne-like chair stood empty, waiting for an occupant.

The faceless figures stood around the bowl, as though waiting for something.

They didn’t have long to wait.

The low, resonant sound of a gong echoed through the chamber and I jumped.

The crowd of masked highbloods stilled, turning towards the far end of the courtyard.

I tensed as a figure in a black robe and black half-mask stepped into the space. He moved slowly, deliberately. The masked highbloods parted for him, bowing their heads as he passed.

He reached the black throne, turning gracefully before lowering himself into the seat. A second gong sounded.

A young woman in a long, gauzy white robe stepped forward from the shadows.

Unlike the others, her face was unmasked. She was smiling and seemed unafraid. Her hair was loose and dark and wavy. She walked slowly across the courtyard, her bare feet padding silently upon the stone floor.

The masked highbloods made way for her, bowing low to the ground as she passed, as if she were their queen.

Or their goddess.

My pulse quickened, unease tightening my chest.

The woman in white came to a stop before the black throne.

I watched from my hidden perch as the masked man rose slowly to his feet. His black robe billowed slightly with the movement.

“Bloodmaiden, will you accept my offering to you?” he intoned. The words were filled with ritualistic solemnity.

The young woman in the white robe lifted her gaze to meet his.

Her voice was clear and calm as she replied, “Yes. Will you accept mine?”

A strange ripple of anticipation coursed through the masked crowd.

The man on the throne nodded. “I will.”

He turned to the crowd of assembled highbloods, sweeping his hand toward the woman. “Let the union of the Blessed Blood begin.”

“Let it begin,” the crowd murmured in unison.

The man surveyed them. “Will you worship her?”

The highbloods’ voices rose in a chilling chorus. “We will.”

My breath caught as I watched the young woman climb the steps to the throne. The closer she got to the man, the heavier the air seemed to become. Thick with mystery and dark tension.

My mind was swirling with confusion. What the hell was happening?

The woman reached the top of the steps and then, to my shock, climbed onto the man’s lap, straddling him without hesitation.

The scene felt wrong. Perverse. Yet the act was full of sensuality.

My thoughts were racing wildly, just as a hand clamped down over my mouth.

“Caught you,” Blake’s voice murmured into my ear.

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CHAPTER 42 – BLAKE

I had her right where I wanted her.

“You didn’t actually think I didn’t know you were following me, did you?” I whispered against her ear.

I yanked her to her feet. I could feel her trembling.

“They’ll see us,” she whispered.

So, she was afraid. She was right to be. She had no business being here and if anyone else but me had found her, the votaries would have slaughtered her without a second thought, red hair of a rider or not. Of course, Viktor would have been furious. But it would have been too late. She had violated the Sanctum by coming here uninvited.

“No one is up on this level and no one down there is going to bother looking up.” But just in case, I blew out the nearby candles, throwing us both into shadow.

Once she felt slightly safer, she tried to pull away from me. “You bastard,” she hissed. “Let go of me.”

“Hey, you’re the one who followed me, Pendragon. No one made you come here. Did you really think vampire senses were so useless that I couldn’t hear you stomping along behind me?”

“You didn’t the last time,” she shot back.

The last time I’d been so desperate to get to a blood brothel and feed that I hadn’t taken my usual precautions. I’d dismissed my qualms about any noises I’d heard as my imagination. But now that I knew she knew where the passage out of Bloodwing was, I’d never make that mistake again.

But I decided to fuck with her.

“Maybe I wanted you to follow me. Maybe I didn’t care. Ever think of that? Maybe I liked it when you watched.”

She stiffened in my arms.

“Just like you seem to like watching right now.” I nuzzled my face  against her cheek. “Can’t take your eyes off them, can you?”

“What are they doing?” she whispered back.

“Watch and see.”

Down below, the girl playing the Bloodmaiden sat upon the masked highblood’s lap, her white robe a stark contrast to his dark garments. Innocence waiting to be marred.

The silence in the courtyard seemed to thicken as the highblood raised his hands to the girl’s shoulders. Slowly, he began unfastening the clasps that held her robe in place.

The girl remained still, her eyes half-closed, her chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths.

The man’s hands moved lower, tracing the length of the girl’s arm before moving down to the curve of her waist. There would be no rush tonight, only the gradual reveal of the woman beneath the white robe.

The masked observers stood in silent reverence for the rite. But despite their air of sacred solemnity, the atmosphere was undeniably carnal.

I felt Pendragon’s breath catch in her throat as the clasps finally unlocked and the white robe slipped off the girl’s shoulders, revealing an expanse of lush white skin.

The girl’s breasts were on the smaller side, but firm and high.  Her dark red nipples puckered in the cool air. The Sanctum always made sure to pick a lovely blightborn specimen.

But it wasn’t the girl down below who had my attention. It was the one I held in my arms.

My hands gripped Pendragon’s waist, holding her steady. Her hands had slipped over the balcony rail, and she peered forward. She seemed to have almost forgotten my hands were there, a single layer of fabric keeping my skin separated from hers.

The rite had her captivated. Unable to look away.

I leaned forward slightly, burying my face in her hair. She smelled incredible. Like fresh fallen leaves with a hint of jasmine. And underlying it all, the iron tang of blood.

“What are you doing?” she asked suddenly, her voice uneasy.

But still she didn’t pull away.

“I call truce,” I murmured lazily. “A one night truce. You don't want me to make you leave, do you? Should I call for the votaries? Have you thrown out? Because that can be arranged.”

She hesitated a moment before shaking her head.

“Good. Stay then. Here, with me. I’ll keep you safe. If anyone finds us, I’ll say it was my fault. That I brought you. I broke the rules.”

“You’d do that? For me?” She sounded shocked.

As if I hadn’t already protected her, time and again.

I said nothing, just slid my hands slightly lower down her hips.

She gasped slightly as her eyes moved back to the spectacle unfolding below.

The highblood man was skimming his hands over the girl’s  smooth, white breasts. His fingers played with her nipples, stroking and squeezing.

The girl leaned back, her head tilted upwards, throat bare and exposed.

The highblood man leaned forward. Not to the girl’s neck, but to suck one pert nipple. Together we watched as he drew the luscious bud into his mouth and licked and teased it with uninhibited abandon.

The girl moaned, her hands moving up to clutch his shoulders, her fingers grasping at his black robe.

Hundreds of eyes watched as the man pushed the girl’s robe down around her waist, exposing the curve of her spine, the delicate swell of her flared hips.

He cupped her body, drawing her closer towards him, her breasts flattening against his chest as he moved his mouth to hers.

They kissed deeply.

“She’s enjoying it.” Pendragon’s voice was shrill with disbelief. Her body hadn’t stopped trembling since I’d grabbed her. “I don’t understand.”

I couldn’t stand it another moment. I had to get closer to her. I let go of her waist with one hand and raised it to brush away the hair from her neck on one side, then lowered my mouth until it was inches away from her skin. As close as I dared get. For now.

“So are you,” I pointed out. “Enjoying it, I mean. It’s a beautiful scene. The girl is lovely and willing. Why shouldn’t she accept pleasure? But she’s nowhere near as stunning as you.” I brushed my other hand down her body, skimming the flat plane of her stomach and then inching lower.

She reached down and grabbed my hand, stopping it in its tracks. “Stunning? Since when do you give me compliments like that, Blake Drakharrow.”

I grinned to myself. The words were strong but her voice was weak. I could sense her hesitation, her confusion. She was vulnerable. Defenseless.

“Surely you know how much I want you, Pendragon,” I murmured. “How much I’ve wanted you since that first day I saw your unbelievably beautiful naked body.”

Her hand had frozen over mine. She hadn’t pulled it away, only stopped me from going any lower.

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since then,” I confessed. “I want to feel your body against mine. I want to bury myself inside you. Don’t you understand how much I crave you?”

Maybe it was the bloodwine talking, but I had no shame left. I risked it all. I lowered my mouth to her neck, not to feed, but to suckle her sweet skin. I kept my fangs in check, simply moving my mouth over that sweet, sensitive flesh.

She gasped. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing you don’t secretly want me to do, little dragon. I won't feed from you, if that’s what you're worried about. I swear it on my life.”

I teased my tongue over the curve of her neck, wishing I dared turn her around and taste her lips. But I knew the spectacle unfolding below was what was driving her desire. She wanted to watch. And I wanted to watch her watching.

“On some level, you need this,” I murmured against her neck. “No matter how hard you've tried to deny it.”

“Oh, gods,” she moaned, tilting her head back slightly to give me greater access.

I pushed gently against her hand, silently begging her to release me. She let it fall away.

I moved my hands down her body, skimming her hips, grazing her thighs, then trailed them back up, letting them linger against the sides of her gown, the sides of her breasts.

She gasped at the contact. Even through the fabric, it was electric.

I moved my mouth to one of the black straps of her gown and worked it slowly off her shoulder with my teeth.

Down in the courtyard, the man had gotten the blightborn girl completely out of her robe. She sat astride him, fully naked, as he fondled her breasts with one hand, caressing her hips with his other, his mouth still moving over hers.

The scene was incredibly erotic.

But not as erotic as the feel of Pendragon’s gown slipping down off her shoulders.

I pushed her other strap down then moved my fingers to the top of her bodice, and before she could stop me, slipped my hands into her gown and cupped her breasts.

She gasped and arched against me slightly, making no move to stop me.

My mouth went to her neck, kissing and licking hungrily, as I took her nipples between my fingers and worked them until they were rigid and stiff. The gown kept getting in my way, pushing against my hands. I shoved it roughly down to her waist, baring her fucking perfect breasts.

She raised her hands then, as if to cover her breasts modestly.

“Shy, little dragon?” I nudged my mouth against her skin, breathing a kiss onto her shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be shy about. Everything about you is sheer perfection. Surely you know that.”

I felt her shake her head slightly. I smiled against her neck. I had her just where I wanted her. Fuck but she was beautiful. Beautiful and all mine.

I couldn’t get enough of her. I stroked her breasts, reveling in the heat of her skin.

Her hair brushed against my face, the curls soft and light, as I bent my head further down, kissing and licking her shoulders and nuzzling my mouth against the nape of her neck.

I was hard, so fucking hard for her. I pushed myself forward against the back of her gown, letting her feel what she’d done to me, and she moaned.

“This is the power you have over me. This is what you do to me every day, Pendragon. You drive me wild. I can’t look at you without longing to fuck you.”

She clutched my hand abruptly. “Look.”

Down below, the highblood man had moved his mouth to the girl's neck. He drew her closer, smoothing her hair off her neck, then yanked her head back. I watched as his fangs shot out, glinting under the dim light before sinking into the girl’s skin.

Pendragon stiffened, as if unsure if she should run or stay.

“No,” I murmured. “Keep watching. Look.”

The girl’s body arched, her breath catching in what seemed like a mix of pleasure and release.

Her fingers tightened on the man's shoulders, gripping him hard as he fed.

Blood trickled down her throat, running in rivulets over her bare breasts. Every few moments, she trembled, her head falling back in a perfect display of surrender and ecstasy. The man’s grip on her waist tightened as he fed, drawing long pulls of blood.

Finally he withdrew, his mouth rimmed with blood. He ran a finger delicately down the girl’s throat to her collarbone, then along the curve of her breast, tracing the trickle of blood before lowering his mouth to suck the droplets off.

In my arms, Pendragon let out a soft moan, as if in frustration.

I knew what was coming. So did the girl playing the Bloodmaiden.

The question was, did Pendragon?

The man’s hands were down around his robes. Slowly, he parted the fabric, exposing his long, hard cock.

The blightborn girl writhed impatiently as she felt him press it against her clit.

She rose up, pressing her hands against his shoulders as if too eager to wait. Then, bold with lust, she lowered herself onto him.

Her moan of pleasure broke through the silence, the sound thick with hunger and desire. Slowly, she began to ride.

“I know what you want,” I whispered in Pendragon’s ear. “I know what you need. The only question is, will you let me take care of you?”

I slid my hands down her bare stomach, feeling the smooth firm planes of her flesh.

“Just watch,” I murmured. “Just watch them. Let me do this for you. Let me give you what you need. What you’ve always needed from me but have never dared to ask for.”

I moved, as if to push her dress from her hips, but her hands shot out. They were shaking as they closed over mine.

“Fine,” I said, my voice husky with want. “I get it. The dress stays on.”

At least half of it.

I raised a hand to her hair and ran my fingers through it, then grabbed a handful and pushed her head down, not roughly, but not exactly gently either. When I had her half-bent over the balustrade, I raised the back of her skirt.

She was naked underneath. Even in the shadows I could see the pale swell of her perfect ass. I ran my hand gently over it, then slid my hand between her legs.

I suppressed a groan. She was soaked. Wetness dripped over my fingers.

“Fuck, Pendragon. You sure know how to make a man feel wanted.”

She squirmed with embarrassment under my hand and I grinned.

“What’s the matter? No witty comebacks now that I've got your pussy in my hand?” I slid a finger inside of her while another began to work the sweet soft rise of her clit.

She trembled against me and a moan escaped her lips. Louder than before.

Without hesitation, I let go of her hair, my free hand flying to clamp down over her mouth. It wouldn’t do for us to be discovered up here. Not at this perfect moment.

She squirmed, trying to fight against me, but I held her tighter.

“Hush now, little dragon,” I scolded. “You don’t want everyone to know what a bad girl you’ve been, do you?”

I started playing with her. Flicking and stroking her soft folds, slipping a second finger into her wetness.

It wasn’t enough. I wanted to be inside her. Wanted to sink my cock into her pussy so fucking badly, to feel her quiver and tighten around me, to spread her thighs as far apart as they could go as she rocked back and forth against me.

But I wouldn’t risk taking things that far. Not now. Not tonight.

Tonight would be for her and her alone.

I nudged her legs a little further apart, enjoying her resistance.

Of course, if she’d really wanted me to stop all she’d have had to do was bite my hand or hit me. I’d have backed right off. Reluctantly, but I’d have done it.

I wanted her willing or not at all.

But she didn’t do any of those things. She wanted this. No matter how much she wanted to deny it. So I’d take the silent treatment. As long as it meant I could also take her.

Below us, the blightborn girl was moaning as she rhythmically rode up and down on the highblood man’s cock, her breasts bobbing with each rise and fall of her hips.

The masked man had returned his mouth to the girl’s neck and was feeding again. Trickles of red slid down the girl’s body and were smeared against her skin by his greedy hands as he grasped her breasts, her hips, her buttocks, urging her on and on.

Meanwhile, my fingers were sliding in and out of Pendragon, working her clit in small circles, as I matched the girl’s feverish rhythm below. My fingers thrust in and out of her tight, willing body as her breathing grew more and more ragged, her muscles clenching and tightening around my hand.

She was close now. So fucking close I could feel it.

“That's it,” I murmured. “Come for me, little dragon. You come when she comes. You can feel it can’t you? The power of it all. The sheer lust.”

I longed to lower my face between her thighs and taste her slickness. Would she taste the same way she smelled? Like brine mixed with jasmine? Like iron and salt?

I settled for driving her mindless with my fingers. I’d pleasure her until she broke, sobbed, cried out my name, muffling the word against my hand.

Her hips were rocking against me now, shamelessly riding the waves of pleasure I was giving her, lost in sensation.

The girl playing the Bloodmaiden was nearing her climax, too. Her cries of pleasure were filling the courtyard.

The masked highbloods had given up their semblance of stiff disregard. They were disrobing one another, forming pairs and trios and piles of naked flesh. Coupling one with the other, men with women, women with women, men and men, like writhing masses of tangled snakes. I lost count of the breasts and cocks and tongues spread out over the white marble floor, atop their discarded black cloaks. Only their masks remained, tightly fitted to conceal their faces.

“I could slide my cock into you right now, little dragon,” I whispered, unable to help taunting her. “I could fill you up, spread you wide. Would you like that?” I stroked my fingers in and out. “Would you want me to part your hips, slide my cock into your wet pussy? Would you ride me like you’d ride a dragon? Like that girl is doing down below?”

She gasped, her body jerking at the sound of the words. Just the idea of my cock inside her was doing this. I felt myself grow harder at the knowledge that I’d turned her on that much.

I circled my thumb over her clit as I rocked my hand against her, fucking her with my fingers as hard as I dared.

I felt her groan against my palm as her frame shook. She was close.

Down below the blightborn girl was, too. I watched as she arched backwards, her breasts damp with her own blood as she rode the highblood man harder and harder.

“That's it,” I whispered in my little dragon’s ear. “Come for me. That's what you’ve always wanted, isn't it? To come hard for me?”

I felt her clench around my fingers. The cliff was beckoning.

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