Claiming the Dragon King Page 2

  Once they were at the end, Blane opened the door leading to the royal family’s rooms. His gaze scanned the hallway with relief at finding it empty. They slowly entered it, moving along the wall as he searched the wards to be sure Sadie’s information about them being down was correct. Once he was sure, he removed his hood and placed his hands on the wall closest to his position.

  “They’re down, fully down,” he mumbled absently, wondering why they’d done it. Why remove wards in this part of the castle without quickly replacing them? Stupid, but it was working to their advantage tonight. He passed several doors before finding one that was elder oak, crafted from the ancient wood, just as Sadie had said it would be.

  His hand touched the knob as a musical voice sounded down the hallway. He tensed and turned to the men who all stood in a line as if they were protecting what lay inside the room. He slipped his hood up as two women moved briskly down the hallway to his location.

  His heart sped up as they neared. Neither female paid them any heed as they stepped between the guards to enter the room. The rich and enticing scent of freshly plucked night flowers followed them. Blane remained erect until they’d closed the door behind them.

  “What the fuck do we do now?” Fyra demanded in a hissed tone as her blonde brow furrowed and creased.

  “It’s two girls,” Wren shrugged. “We can use more women anyway. Not a problem.”

  Blane scrubbed his hand down his face as he turned and looked both ways down the hall before he opened the door and stepped inside.

  Chapter Two

  Ciara laughed at Darynda’s lips as they pouted at the empty cribs. She’d felt the same way; seeing them empty had been a hard blow. She’d offered to be in the rotation for a chance to see them, to play their pretend nanny until they were back. Everyone had a part to play here, and with the war with the Mages looming on the horizon, she’d made sure to put her best foot forward.

  Of course, at night, she was free to do as she wanted, which normally ended up with her hanging at the two nightclubs she’d been approved to visit by the king, her brother. Her hand absently touched the charm that hung around her wrist on the platinum bracelet Ryder had given her.

  She’d known it wasn’t just a regular bracelet, but today it itched. She pulled on the beautiful charm until the bracelet snapped off. Holding it in her hand so that whatever it did wouldn’t alert her brothers to the fact she’d removed it, she bent over the crib and brought Zander’s blanket up to her nose, inhaling his scent. She missed the little monsters; their perky smiles and endless laughter had made her life here a little less challenging to endure lately.

  The door opened, and she turned around, watching as the guards piled into the room. Her eyes narrowed at them and waited for the charge guard to speak; when he didn’t, she did.

  “What are you doing in here?” she asked, examining the physique of the tallest one. “I asked you a question, you will answer it.” It wasn’t her brothers, and most of the Elite Guard was made up of her brothers, or other kin. She stepped a little closer and watched in horror as he withdrew his sword.

  Instantly she summoned her own swords to her hands as Zahruk had trained her to do. She body checked Darynda, who didn’t respond to the threat in the room. Her mouth opened and closed even as she hit the ground, hard.

  “You’re not Elite Guards,” Ciara seethed as she took in the differences in their armor. It was close, but the actual armor of the guards contoured to their bodies; it had iridescent fabric that made them able to move around undetected. Ciara watched as he removed his hood, revealing piercing blue eyes that never left hers. He had high chiseled cheekbones, with a full mouth that lifted in the corners, giving her a dangerous smirk. His hair was a mixture of light brown with dark tips that reached his shoulders. He was striking, almost beautiful. Yet there was roughness in his face that spoke of harsh climates and sun. Not that it took from the beauty; in fact, it added to it.

  “No, we’re not, woman,” he said thickly with an accent Ciara couldn’t place. She took another step back, giving herself enough room to fight him, them. Her heart leapt to her throat, and her hands grew sweaty against the hilts of her blades as fear crept up her spine. “Do you really think you can fight me?” he asked and she smirked at his naiveté.

  Ciara lunged, catching him off guard as she took an offensive attack against him, ignoring Darynda’s scared cries as blade crashed against blade. He met her attacks with skill, deflecting blow after blow as she continued to assault him. Her arms burned from the blades she’d called to her, too heavy, not the slim ones she’d been using to practice with only a few hours earlier. Today’s training had been grueling, meant to drain her until she couldn’t fight anymore. It was how every training course had gone in the last few weeks. It was how the Elite Guard trained for war, and she’d begged Zahruk to push her past her limits. However, she hadn’t planned on fighting off attackers that day, either.

  He parried her attack and then slammed his blade hard against one of hers, sending it crashing to the floor. Ciara looked at it as her lungs burned, her chest heaved with exhaustion, and the reality of the situation took hold. Her eyes lowered to the bracelet on the floor, and then back up just as he forced her to move into defensive attacks. He calculated each attack, carefully backing her up to the wall and out of room to move.

  She was slowing, her body exhausted from the rigorous workout she’d done after training today. No doubt Zahruk had pushed her twice as hard today so no one would be forced to trail her at the clubs tonight. Metal clashed against metal until Ciara felt Darynda at her back where she’d risen to stand and watch the fight. She shivered and tried to push forward again, only for him to force her right back to where he wanted her. She thrust her blade at him with everything she had, ignoring the pain that shot up her arms with each clash of their metal. Sweat trickled down her spine as a sense of foreboding settled in.

  Sweat dripped down her forehead as she realized the wards were not responding, and her brothers weren’t coming. Somehow these men had known the wards were down, and then she realized why they were. These men had come to take the babes, and a sense of relief washed through her that Ryder and Synthia had been smart enough to hide them.

  “Put it down, little girl,” he ordered.

  “You first, asshole,” she seethed.

  “Put it down, and you won’t get hurt,” he amended.

  “I’ll die before I put it down,” she growled. She’d heard horror tales of what happened to women when the fighting ended. She’d been forced to endure endless hours of screaming as her father took his women to bed. She had no interest in what would happen if she stopped fighting.

  “So be it,” he warned as he lunged, sending her blade sailing from her hands before she knew what he intended to do. He raised his blade to strike again, and Darynda screamed.

  “She’s the princess! She’s worth more alive to you, please. Don’t kill her!”

  Ciara’s blood ran cold as she turned horrified eyes on Darynda. Betrayal stung, and her eyes watered as the reality of what Darynda had said registered. She knew Darynda didn’t do it out of any malice; she was trying to save Ciara from certain death.

  “No, no…no,” she whispered as she turned wide, horrified eyes back to the male. His sword was raised, his eyes narrowed. Ciara kicked him right between the legs, landed an uppercut, and dropped, kicking out her foot in a move Synthia taught her. He fell to his knees with a muffled growl as the female behind him jumped in to take his place.

  Ciara backed up, pushing Darynda with her. The blonde looked as if she’d relish the kill. Ciara focused her mind, pushing away everything else, and brought forth her reserved powers. Her brands ignited, giving proof to Darynda’s claim of who she was. She pushed a burst of energy at the group and grabbed Darynda’s hand, making a beeline towards the door. Something caught her foot, and she stumbl
ed, taking Darynda down with her.

  She spun on her derriere and kicked out, hitting him square in the nose with her booted foot. He ignored it as if he hadn’t felt the kick and pulled her to him. His hand wrapped around her throat. He held her there, trapped beneath the heavy weight of his body as her labored breathing forced her chest to rise and fall.

  “Open the fucking portal,” he snarled.

  “On it,” the girl said as she got to her feet, staring at Ciara with hatred. “Get the babes,” he ordered. Ciara turned her head as the men rushed to the cribs, tossing the blankets and toys about.

  She laughed even though it came out choked and distorted from where his hand held her throat. “You fool, you risked your lives for nothing,” she cried out as his hand applied more pressure. “You’ll die for this.”

  “I don’t think so,” he whispered as his eyes searched hers. “Where are they?” he demanded icily.

  “They’re with the Gods who they share blood with,” she snapped and watched the color drained from his face. “The same ones that will hunt you down and destroy you. You have no idea what you have done, do you?” she laughed and then winced as he sat back, holding her down with the weight of his body.

  “Get that fucking portal open now,” he snarled.

  Darynda lunged, taking him off of Ciara long enough for her to gain her feet and rush towards the door. A sickening noise stopped her, and she turned, staring at Darynda’s bloody head before lifting her chin as a blade was placed against her throat.

  Her eyes didn’t leave Darynda’s motionless body. Blood pooled around her head, and Ciara screamed with anguish and anger, which caused the wards to ripple. The hum of danger intensified, the wards began to glow, and Ciara closed her eyes as her sense of hopelessness began to diminish as the wards alerted the guard.

  “Thirty seconds,” the female announced.

  “Don’t try it,” the male said as Ciara turned to look at the door, and then back at the bracelet that sat beside Darynda. The blade pierced her flesh as she moved and she lifted her hands, pushing it away. Her lips parted as a hiss expelled from her lungs and her palms burned with pain from being sliced open. Blood pooled at her feet as they bled openly. “Stupid female,” he snapped as he pushed his sword away and grabbed her hair. He tugged her with him as a portal opened up inside the nursery.

  “We have nothing to barter with,” a male with emerald green eyes said.

  “On the contrary, we have the only daughter of Alazander in our possession,” the male she’d been fighting replied as he pulled her body close to his and pulled her through the portal.

  Chapter Three

  The portal opened into a forest unfamiliar to Ciara, one filled with ancient oaks. The man behind her held tightly to her hair, jerking her back against him as she tried to distance herself from his body. He barked out orders and pushed her to the ground, following her down as he yanked on her wrist, assessing the damage to her hands.

  “Wren, heal her now,” he ordered sharply. “You fought well enough that you should know not to grab on to a blade.”

  “I fight well enough? You had a blade to my throat, what the fuck did you expect? For me to kiss it?” she snapped.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Take me home,” she retorted angrily.

  “I asked you a question,” he growled.

  “Suck it, buttercup,” she clipped.

  Hands grabbed hers, and she screamed as burning pain shot through her. Tears filled her eyes, and then just as fast as it started, it ended. She yanked her hands away from him, finding them sealed; burned, but sealed.

  “What the hell?” she cried as she stared at the red, angry scars. The man on his knees pulled her against him as the other grabbed her hands again while she struggled to keep him and his freaky shit away from her wounded hands.

  “Hold still,” the man at her back demanded. “Blane, fucking do it already or knock the bitch out.”

  He lowered his tawny head to her hands and licked the burned flesh. Her center erupted into firecrackers all exploding together, as if he was inside her mind, touching her body instead of licking her hands. She examined his mouth and then her hand as she yanked them away from him.

  “Get that thing away from me!” she demanded.

  “My mouth?” he laughed as electric blue eyes narrowed and observed her.

  “Keep it to yourself,” she huffed as she elbowed the man behind her and tried to get up.

  “Wren, get me some rope for my little hellcat,” Blane ordered.

  Ciara watched as Blane stood up with Wren, moving to the group who stood off to the side, scrutinizing them. She slowly got to her feet and dusted off her clothes as she stared down at her healed palms. What the hell used heat to treat flesh? She wracked her brain until she realized they’d made a vital mistake. They’d turned their backs on her. She twisted her head, looking at the small trail that led deeper into the woods.

  Her head slowly moved back to the group who were arguing over something far enough away that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She turned without giving it another thought and ran as fast as her feet would take her. Tree branches snapped and broke beneath her feet. Branches slapped her in the face as she tore through the woods, leaving the trail as the sound of rushing water met her ears.

  Distance; she needed it between her and her captors to figure out what to do. Ciara cleared her mind and tried to sift, but nothing happened. What the heck? She closed her eyes, focusing on her magic, only for nothing to happen, again. No magic? Her eyes searched the sky, the area around her looking for any reason why she wouldn’t be able to use her magic. Her mind raced, her heart pounding loudly in her ears as she forced herself to continue running. She pushed through the forest into a clearing and spun around in a quick circle, stalling as wild horses came into view. Really? Horses! The one thing in Faery she couldn’t ride.

  She started forward, only to be taken to the ground. She slapped at him and wrapped her legs around his waist, using the moves her brothers had taught her for defense.

  “Cease your struggles,” he demanded.

  “You cannot expect a girl to just lounge about and let you take her, fucker,” she snapped. She bucked her hips and rolled her body, only to end up straddled above him. She was shocked it had worked and paused a moment too long. He secured her hips with his hands and pushed her down on his cock, which was hard. “Stop that,” she whispered in surprise.

  He rolled them, securing her with his weight as he captured her hands above her head. His mouth lowered and hovered against hers as she threw her head back, smashing it against the ground. His throaty laughter made her eyes narrow, and before he guessed her move, she bit his lip, hard. He growled against her mouth as she tasted the coppery tang of blood.

  His breath fanned her lips, and she winced and groaned as his tongue pushed into her mouth, dipping deep as it searched for hers. Her eyes opened wide as something started to tighten in her core. She pushed at him as he leisurely explored her mouth. He pulled his mouth from hers with a shocked look that mirrored hers.

  He straddled her as he lifted and stared down at her as if she’d grown another head. Branches snapped behind them, and he turned his dark head, extended his hand, and took what Wren had held out. He leaned over her, grabbing her wrists and pulling them in front of her.

  Ciara was lost in what had just happened. How the fuck did he get the upper hand when she’d bit him? He got off of her and pulled her up until she was on her feet, staring at him as if he’d turned into some creature from the depths of the unknown. No one kissed her and lived, which meant no one kissed her, ever. No one dared, not with who and what her brothers were.

  “You kissed me, you son of a bitch,” she whispered in shock.

  “And?” he snapped huskily.

 
“I’m the Princess of the Horde, no one touches me, ever,” she warned. “It is forbidden.”

  “You’re Fae, princess, you forget that part?” he snapped indifferently. “You fuck to feed, and have a huge appetite, from what I’ve been told.”

  “Surely it must have slipped my mind,” she replied icily as he pulled her by the rope now binding her wrists.

  “If you run again, I’ll do more than just kiss you,” he warned.

  “Is that supposed to scare me? I’m Fae, remember?” she shot back at him crisply.

  His smirked sent anger pulsing through her. What was he if not Fae? Her eyes roamed the forest, noting the trees moved with them. They followed them with ancient eyes that sent a chill racing down Ciara’s spine. There were only a few forests in Faery with creatures that used the trees to see. When they reached the edge of the meadow, they paused.

  “Get the horses ready, Wren. Fyra, shatter the portal. Klaus, you take the bags and meet us on the other side of the forest, lead the scent to the Sandless desert and then place the bags with our clothes and her blood on the horse and send it through them. That will lead the hounds away from us long enough to reach camp. Everyone else, mount up.”

  Ciara watched him through her thick lashes as he commanded the men like a general would an army. No one argued his plan, not one single person. He turned his gaze back at her, and she glared as she lifted her shoulders and straightened her spine.

  “And her?” Fyra asked.

  “She’ll ride with me,” he announced.

  Fyra snorted and shook her head. Well, almost no one argued with him, except her. Ciara growled as Blane yanked on the rope, pulling her closer to where he stood as if she was a new pet. Heat enveloped her as their flesh touched. She stood silently as he withdrew a cloak from a bag Fyra handed him. She stiffened as he settled it on her shoulders and placed the hood over her head.