Текст книги "Desire in His Blood"
Автор книги: Zoey Draven
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
I was the only one to blame for this. Me and my stupid, stupid pride.
Azur took my hand. I shivered as he ran his black claw down the green-colored vein in my wrist, his pupils flaring, his fangs elongating. His touch was electric, zapping tingles down my arm in its wake.
“Be careful what you offer me, wife,” Azur rumbled above me. His teeth flashed and he bent low. His hot breath spread over my delicate and sensitive inner wrist as he said, “Because I will take it. When it comes to you, I will take whatever I want.”
The first sharp prick of his fangs came, making me gasp.
Then I watched as they sank deep into my wrist.
Chapter 12
Azur
I’d prayed to Alaire that I’d been wrong.
That my human bride wasn’t my kyrana. My blood mate.
That she didn’t taste as mind-numbingly good as I’d believed.
That I wouldn’t feel wonderful relief and dizzying need and primal hunger crash into me as I took my first deep draw of her rich blood.
Vaan, I cursed silently as her taste registered, as my hand tightened around her wrist, holding her in place, as my wings flared with a violent snap behind me.
On Raazos…she tasted even better than I’d remembered last night. I’d dreamed of her blood. With the memory of her scent swarming my mind, I’d woken this morning with my fangs lodged into my own arm because I’d dreamed of her, waking with a throbbing cock and half held on the edge of release, grinding my hips into my bed.
The blood madness was already taking hold.
It would not be sated for quite some time. And even then, I would endure stretches of it when the moon winds were strong. Even when I sent her back to the Collis, back to her broken House.
My swallows were greedy as I held her widened gaze. A dusky red flush swarmed her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her lips parted. As surprised as she was unnerved. I could see her wild panic just as I saw the wild pleasure begin to spread. On a particularly deep suck, one that made my cheeks hollow, I watched her eyelids flutter.
In the back of my mind, I knew I’d already taken a lot of her blood last night. I could not take much more. This had been intended as a warning. I hadn’t been planning to feed from her again until I returned from the northern border, but she’d raised the challenge herself.
And if there was one thing she would come to discover about me, it was that I never backed down. She didn’t fear me enough. Perhaps that was my own mistake.
A desperate moan escaped her throat, and I felt that sound travel straight to my cock. I didn’t want to want her. I didn’t want this desire, this lust that came from feeding off a blood mate.
But the kyrana bond was powerful. It had been powerful for our ancestors, for the ancient warrior berserkers who’d sated themselves on their enemies’ blood after a victory and then taken out their lusts and the remainder of their rages on their mates in the aftermath.
The act of feeding itself was not sexual. Not usually.
For most, it was as impersonal as fueling ourselves with actual food from our lands. Pleasant but ultimately, a way to satisfy a necessity.
But this…
I’d never felt the act of feeding tied to my own sexual pleasure before.
Especially when the object and source of my pleasure was Gemma Hara.
My wife was gripping my wrist. Squeezing. Encouraging me? Or warning me?
It can be both, I decided, feeling my own maelstrom of emotions as they roved and swirled and pricked and soothed me.
When she swayed on her knees, I retracted my fangs in a rush, growling that I was denying myself, not nearly as sated as I needed to be on her blood. I wanted to gorge myself on it.
Swiping my tongue over my bottom lip, one last hit of her blood nearly making my eyes roll back, I looked down at her, still on her knees before me.
My cock was throbbing. The swell of my seal, my knot, at the base of my shaft was engorged. When I shifted, I nearly groaned as it rubbed against the smooth material of my pants.
For a brief moment…I allowed myself to imagine it. Seating myself so deep inside the daughter of my enemy that my seal rooted into place, keeping every last drop of my seed stoppered within her, as my fangs were imbedded in her neck, drinking deep as ecstasy exploded through me.
What would that even be like? I’d fucked and fed at the same time before with past lovers. But with my kyrana?
Not many could claim they’d experienced that.
Gemma was leaning to the side, holding herself in place by the leg of one of the chairs. Dazed.
Crouching low, I studied her face as the hit of strength from the brief feeding made me feel like I could fly to Koro and back. I could cross oceans with this strength.
Unbelievable, I thought to myself. No wonder the berserkers of old were said to be unparalleled in their rages. The mightiest of the berserkers had already found their kyranas, or so the histories claimed.
Now I believed those accounts.
Because this kind of strength was unfathomable until it was experienced. This kind of strength could win entire wars.
Taking Gemma’s wrist in my grip once more, I studied my bite. She didn’t move away from me. She didn’t even flinch at my touch. She met my gaze steadily, even though her eyes were still half-lidded with residual pleasure.
Stubborn female.
My wife would make me work harder that I’d thought I’d have to to make her submit.
Leaning forward, my tongue slithered out, and she froze as I lapped at the bite, dragging it up slowly, my venom stopping the bleeding, coagulating her blood, but I decided against healing the flesh.
My mouth watered as I got one last aching taste of her.
“When you look down at my mark today,” I murmured to her, reaching forward to tilt up her chin so she met my gaze, “I want you to remember your pride. I want you to remember how it shattered as you went down to your knees before me. And remember it well.”
Her glare snapped back into place, her spine straightening.
A dark grin stole over my face.
Gemma had surprised me. She’d intentionally tried to throw my words back in my face by doing the unexpected.
But pride was pride.
I had enough of it, too, to know that my words would infuriate her.
Smoothing my thumb over her cheek one last time, I rose without a whisper of a sound. She climbed to her feet angrily, gripping the edge of the table until she stood, fists clenched at her side. I imagined that it also enraged her how much larger I was. I imagined it cut that she had to crane her neck back so far to meet my eyes.
My body was still humming with desire, and judging from the hard press of Gemma’s nipples against the silk of her dress, she was just as disgusted about it as I was too.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zaale coming back to the terrace, a fresh pot of thickened tea one of my brothers had sent from Vyaan perched in his hands.
His step stuttered when he saw me, and I ground my back teeth. Could he tell? Could he see the change in me, the difference that my kyrana’s blood made?
Of course he can, I thought. Zaale had been a keeper in my family’s estate since before Kythel and I had been born. He would be able to tell.
And I saw when realization hit him. When his gaze flickered to Gemma, assessing her in a way he hadn’t before.
“We will speak when I return,” I told Zaale gruffly as he approached the table. “I need to leave. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Gemma’s head snapped to me. Was that relief in her expression?
“Very well, Kyzaire,” Zaale murmured, setting the tea down, his movements stiff.
Because he knew what this meant.
I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry. I had made a promise to my family. I had prayed to our gods and goddesses at House Kaalium’s shrine. I would not turn my back on Aina. I would secure her vengeance and her justice for us all.
“Tell Maazin I need the lore yield reports upon my return,” I added. “I’ve reminded him once already and am reaching the end of my patience.”
“I’ll make sure it gets done,” Zaale replied.
Turning back to Gemma, I informed her gruffly, “Stay out of the keepers’ ways. You may roam the estate, but do not venture into the villages below.”
Her jaw tightened. “You’ll have me watched?”
“Would you rather be locked up in your rooms?” I asked, quirking my brow as I stepped toward her, my belly heating with the thought. “Because I can certainly arrange that in my absence.”
Wisely, she kept her mouth shut. Bit her tongue actually, judging by the small clench in the sides of her cheeks.
“Good wife,” I purred, savoring the spark of fury that lit up her gaze at the words. Leaning forward, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, I murmured, “Rest up. I’ll be ravenous when I return.”
Chapter 13
Gemma
Leaning against the banister of the terrace, pressing my belly into its front, I sighed, lovingly tracing the view of the Silver Sea, memorizing every lapping ripple and wave that came my way and crashed into the cliffs below, sending a salty spray upward that misted through my hair.
Even with the peaceful view and the surprising freedom that I’d been afforded around Azur’s keep, I found that I was getting restless.
Bored, even.
I’d been working myself to the bone for the last five years, hauling myself up before dawn to oversee the work in the blue salt mines, before trudging back to our estate at nightfall to run through inventories and export schedules and ledgers of balances and debts. Worrying myself sick over when the next debt collector would come. Wondering if I’d find my father beaten and bruised again when it came to light that he couldn’t pay.
And now…
I’d been sold to a Kylorr male. My only fears now were when was the next time he’d feed from me…and if I would embarrass myself by succumbing to the tantalizing pleasure that his bite wrung.
I didn’t want it.
I would rather be afraid.
I would rather his bite hurt and pinch and ache.
Only it didn’t. It didn’t hurt me. It was the opposite.
Azur would be returning tonight. He’d been gone two days, and I’d spent yesterday roaming the endless halls of the keep, mapping out the corridors in my head, memorizing them so I could navigate them with Ludayn. I’d poked my head in doors that I probably shouldn’t have, even the keeper’s quarters, much to the bemusement of the Kylorr who’d been dozing there.
Today, taking further advantage of Azur’s absence, I would venture to the west wing. I’d already explored the east, north, and south wings of the keep, admiring the almost gothic architecture with its bold yet delicate lines. I’d run my hand over carvings in the walls, images depicting scenes of battle or of alien, though majestic, landscapes on Krynn. I’d uncovered a circular, wide set of stairs in the south wing that led up to an observation tower, affording an even grander view of Laras than I’d thought possible. Nearby I’d found a library, filled to the brim with books and ancient tomes, written in both the universal tongue and the Kylorr’s language. I’d spent a good portion of the evening thumbing through brittle pages and running my finger down leathery spines, searching for anything having to do with Krynn’s history but finding nothing relevant to my own interests.
The keep of House Kaalium was beautiful.
More elegant and grand than I’d ever expected, with a deep-rooted history living in its walls. At times during my exploration, I swore I’d felt a touch or a cool prickle at my back or across my arm. Only when I’d turned, no one had been there. There had been a hum of awareness in the air, though I hadn’t been threatened by it. Only cautious.
Old souls were still living here, I’d decided. And they were as curious about me as I was about this place. I wondered how long the family had lived in Laras. A long time, I guessed, considering the age of the keep alone.
Footsteps sounded behind me, coming down the stone steps toward the private corner of the courtyard I’d discovered. A female was humming, though it wasn’t Ludayn. Near the transport tunnel doors—which had been locked, I’d discovered—I was shielded from sight of the stairs considering the tumbling blooms and vines that needed desperate care.
When I craned my neck around the corner, I stilled.
It was Kalia.
The Kylorr female hadn’t seen me yet. She was twirling an indigo flower in her hands, inspecting it as she pinched the stem. Like the first time I’d seen her, she was dressed in tight-fitting pants and a beautiful forest-green top that was encrusted in shimmering gems and inlaid with metals. They made an intricate swirling pattern down her breasts and over her abdomen, the thick hem flaring out slightly over her hips.
The females I’d seen in the keep didn’t wear dresses, and I realized that it was probably difficult to fly in one. It was frowned upon for human females to dress in such a way—in pants and tunics—especially from the noble houses. I’d always been annoyed when my dresses got tangled around my ankles as I’d stepped over boulders in the mines. How much easier it would’ve been had I been free to dress like Kalia.
“Hello,” I greeted softly, stepping out from my hiding place. I had on my gray dress this morning. Since I’d decided to continue exploring the keep, it was also my most comfortable, the material soft from wear, though there was a large hole Piper had sewed closed for me with white silk thread, right at the side of my waist.
If Kalia was another of Azur’s wives, I could see why he’d chosen her. She was beautiful. Standing close to her, I was highly aware that the sea wind had swept tendrils of hair out from my tight bun and that my dress was terribly, terribly drab in comparison to the sparkling metals sewn to her tunic.
Kalia froze. She’d been approaching the terrace banister—to go flying? I wondered—but she stilled next to the small bubbling fountain in the very center.
For a moment, she looked flabbergasted, blinking at me in such a way that made me wonder if she’d forgotten who I was.
Then her lips pressed. The bloom in her hands dropped and I watched it fall.
Clearing my throat, I took a step toward her, my heart beginning to thump in my chest. “What are these flowers called? They’re beautiful. I’ve never quite seen—”
Kalia turned her back on me. Though she could fly, she took to the stairs, one angry step at a time.
“Wait!” I called out behind her. “I just…”
I trailed off with a sigh, watching her quick retreat.
Biting my lip, I turned back to the Silver Sea.
Deal with it, I told myself, even when I felt my throat tighten. It was probably ill-advised regardless to try to make friends with Kalia, since she obviously detested the mere sight of me. But even on the Collis, when I’d felt alone, I’d truly never been alone. I’d had my sisters. I’d had Fran.
On Krynn I was alone. Truly alone. With no way to even contact my family. To see how they were.
“They’re called starwood flowers,” came Kalia’s voice.
I turned with a hitched breath, but she was already gone, the tops of her wings disappearing as she retreated. But she’d answered me. I hadn’t made her cry like last time by just speaking to her. I considered that progress.
Glancing at the flowers spilling next to me, I touched one of the blooms. With velvety soft petals, the stamen was dark, almost pitch black. The indigo color of the bloom had intermittent white dots peppered along its surface, giving the appearance of a starry night sky.
Beautiful, I thought, making a mental note to look up books on Krynn’s plant life in the library, if I could find any.
Peering around the filled courtyard and remembering the private terrace where I’d taken my morning meal with Azur yesterday—though he’d done more of the eating than I had, I remembered with a flush—I thought that the flowers could use a little care. The ones that were trailing on the ground had begun to rot. The vines from which they bloomed were tangled and wild. Some curled around the stones but others jutted upward, swaying in the wind.
It’s a project, I thought quietly. It would give me something to do. And to distract from the reality of my situation, I would need a lot to fill my time.
I found another project to work on later that day as I explored the west wing of the keep.
I came across an open, arched door, slightly ajar. The sounds of frustration coming from within were what made me push it open and peer curiously inside.
Within, I discovered a Kylorr male, hands running through golden-yellow hair, which got tangled around his twisting ivory-colored horns. Sitting slumped over a metal desk, scribbling away on parchment, he was wearing a deep frown and mumbling under his breath. Piles and stacks of paper were all around him, and I watched as he paused in his scribbling to pluck a sheet from the stack, scanning its contents with a shrewd eye.
That was when he saw me lingering in the doorway, and he straightened, blinking.
“Kylaira,” the male greeted with a slight bow of his head, standing up from the desk.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” I told him, eyeing the room.
And it was a pretty room at that. High, vaulted ceilings and tall, arched windows, with latticed panes that made a delightful diamond pattern. A desk was situated in front of the windows, which I imagined would let in warm, glorious sunlight in the afternoons. Heavy shelves of stacked papers were stuffed up against all the available space. It was chaotic and disorganized, but it smelled like the library my mother had kept in the Collis. The scent of old parchment and earthy ink would always make me think of her.
Upon closer inspection, I saw the papers were records. Shelves and shelves of them.
Distracted, I murmured, “I thought you were in distress from the sounds, so I came to see if anything was wrong.”
The male’s shoulders relaxed. His grin was lopsided, charming, even. “This time of the year is always busy. I’m afraid I misplaced my original calculations for the harvest, so I’m trying to re-do them.” His face dropped. “But I beg you, do not tell the Kyzaire that.”
It was strange. There were some in the keep who didn’t seem to know the nature of the marriage between Azur and myself. Most knew it had been arranged. But some seemed to believe that there was respect or even affection in the relationship when they could not be further from the truth.
Another thing I found strange, which had never been more apparent to me than right then, staring at a records room full of parchment, was that there was a lack of tech utilized in daily life here.
Even in the Collis, I would never imagine keeping physical records. All records and accounting were done and stored through our Halo system. I knew that the Kylorr, at least the Kylorr of the Kaalium, were a wealthy people. The obvious wealth of my own husband and his family was apparent. I’d seen the nature of his space vessel—it was top-of-the-line luxurious. He even had a private docking bay on planet and a private high-speed transport tunnel straight to the keep.
But the keep itself seemed to be run in the old tradition. The keepers cleaned, cooked, and did their chores by hand, forgoing the use of programmed tech. There were no automated systems within the rooms, like the washroom. The showers had to be switched on by hand. If I washed my hair, I had to roughly dry it with a cloth and finish in front of the fire, which I couldn’t turn on with a wave of my hand.
Beds needed to be made manually. Windows needed to be opened at the start of every morning. And there were no messaging systems in place to reach another being in a different section of the keep, if need be.
When was the last time I’d ever done our accounting by hand? I wondered, staring at the silver pen lying innocently across the Kylorr male’s parchment. Even for quick calculations, I couldn’t remember.
Stepping forward into the room, I said, “I can help you. I’m good with numbers. I did all our record keeping for—”
“That’s not necessary, Kylaira,” the male said quickly. “I can handle it. I’m sure you have too much to do to bother with these old records.”
“I’m quite bored, I assure you. I would love to help,” I said softly, giving him a small smile. Which died when I added, “If you don’t mind the company, that is.”
Numbers. I loved numbers—even when I’d hated them in connection to our debts. Because numbers never lied. Math was the foundation of our universe and one of the only commonalities between the vast amount of races in the Four Quadrants.
I found that incredible. There was beauty in that. Unfathomable beauty and connection.
I was already stepping around the desk, peering down at the parchment, which I discovered were balance sheets.
Lore.
Another surprising discovery about the Kylorr was that they were responsible for the most sought-after commodity in the universe. During one particularly low harvest year, I’d heard a single leaf of lore had sold for 25,000 credits.
Lore was no blue salt, which could be harvested on many planets, that was for certain. But this seemed like a lot of work for just one being. And I had nothing better to do than roam the halls and tidy up the starwood vines out on the terrace, which I planned to do in the coming days.
Anything to distract me from Azur’s return tonight, I thought to myself, running my finger down a particular column which was labeled tun, which I knew was a universal measure of weight.
Excitement rose in my breast just as I remembered something.
“Are you Maazin?” I wondered, looking up at the Kylorr male. The male who was in charge of the lore yield reports, who Azur had already reminded once about their completion.
He was studying me carefully, the twitch of his wings behind him the only indication he’d heard me. He was still frowning, looking down to the parchment over the desk, before up at me.
Suddenly, his shoulders relaxed again. He gave me a half smile and said, “Yes. Yes, I am. And I would delighted if you joined me here, Kylaira. Of course you can help, if you truly wish to.”
I smiled. Perhaps the first genuine smile I’d given someone since I’d left the Collis.
“Call me Gemma.”
“Gemma,” Maazin repeated, inclining his head in acknowledgment. He gestured to the stacks of parchment along the far wall. “Would you like to start there? I’ll finish these.”
Looking out the wide window, which had a partial view of a village below with a peak of the sea, I saw that the sun was sinking, casting brilliant rays across the sky.
Soon, night would arrive.
And so would Azur.
“Let’s get to work,” I said, turning back to Maazin, smiling.
