Page 14 of Power of Draken

Kai unbuckles the med kit from his thigh and tosses it to Kyrian, then prowls behind me. His hands are warm on my skin, the calluses from weapons training scraping along my ribs lightly as he wraps an arm around my middle. When he pulls me against him, the heat of his body seeps into my back, just like Kyrian’s warmth caresses the naked skin on my belly.

Kyrian adjusts where he crouches before me, face so close to my breasts that his breath brushes over the nipples each time he exhales. His eyes brush my skin without a hint of lewdness, but plenty of close assessment. The pressure of his undivided attention caresses my skin.

My thighs clench, ignoring my brain's very firm instructions to not admire the two warriors sandwiching me now. Cocooning me in their power. And probably planning what sort of punishment to dole out since their first choice, killing me out right, isn’t allowed. If I know anything about these two, it’s that they are dangerous.

“Four stitches should do it.” Kyrian says, shifting my breast around in his hand for access. I tense and Kai’s grip around me tightens so much it's hard to draw breath. At another’s hands, the motion might be cruel, but Kai’s hold exudes confidence and experience that are at utter odds with a cadet, no matter how well trained he is. A heartbeat later, when the bite of the needle comes and I have no place to thrash, I understand why he grips as hard as he does. Tears prick my eyes but I don’t let them fall. It’s my last defense of my dignity and I’m holding onto it.

Kyrian works quicker than any healer I’ve met. Like Kai, everything about him says he’s done this before. A dozen times maybe. Or a hundred. Or more. Or maybe I’m just in pain and imagining things.

“Done.” Kyrian breaks the final thread and rises, Kai immediately releasing his grip on me. I cross my arms around my chest, careful of the new stitches. Good as Kyrian is, I don’t want to experience that again.

“What now?” I ask.

“Now your squad leader escorts you back to the barracks and puts you under guard,” says Kai.

“Under guard?” I sputter, almost dropping my hands from my chest. The remains of my shirt are now bloody fabric strips that wouldn’t cover a cat.

Kai pulls his shirt off over his head, proving that he looks exactly like how I imagine he would. Each defined muscle flows into the one beside it, creating an ultimate agile predator now towering over me. With wash-board abdominals now bare, it takes all my willpower to not follow the thin trail of coarse blond curls from where they start below Kai’s belly button down to their natural conclusion. He rumples his shirt into a ball and throws it at my chest. “Put this on.”

“What about you?”

Kai’s nostrils flared in exasperation. “I’m less likely to attract attention walking back to the Spire naked from the waist up.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” I mumble, my face heating when I realized Kaiheard me. I quickly pull on the garment, which reaches all the way down to my knees and still carries the warrior’s warmth.

Kai’s gaze lingers on me in another unreadable assessment, then snaps to Kyrian. “Get her home, put a guard on her door through morning. Then bring her to the commandant’s office for punishment after evening formation.”

Chapter8

Kai

Rowan and I stand alone in the commandant’s office, the light flickering through the window gleaming off the polished mahogany desk and playing over the neat stack of parchment that I should be taking the opportunity to read through. Instead, I’m staring at her. At the alchemist.

“Where is the commandant?” Rowan asks, her rich auburn hair spilling in luscious locks onto her shoulders. The blend of deep reds and warm brown tones whisper promises of what the curls lower on her body must look like. She wears my uniform shirt, the one I pulled off to give to her. It’s big and it slides over a bare shoulder, showing off glowing skin. She wears no pants. No boots. Just my shirt and that penetrating, infuriating, gorgeous look on her face.

Stars. The sight of her is already making me painfully hard.

“Not here yet.”

I stalk around the commandant’s desk to where Rowan is standing. Her eyes are large and she smells of fear and honey and citrus. Of me and Kyrian. The chill is hardening her nipples, which tent the fabric of her shirt. My shirt. I stop in front of her, and look down. She barely reaches my shoulder. I listen for footsteps, but no one is close.

I should send her away. To stand outside the office until the commandant comes. So I can stay inside alone. And do what I should be doing. Reading intelligence reports. Memorizing maps. Doing whatever it takes to undo what’s been done to Lilith. And to so many draken. And yet, I don’t. Instead I’m standing here like a stars’ damned adolescent, unable to tear my attention away from the way Rowan’s lush lips part slightly. I want to devour them, to plunder her sweet mouth until she's breathless and trembling.

“So what should I do?” she asks. She wraps her arms around herself. She is here for discipline and she’s afraid. “Should I come back later?”

“No.” I swallow. “I can start your punishment now. What reason is there to wait?”

“W-what are you going to do?” Her voice hitches. She is afraid, yes, but she can’t keep her eyes off me. The scent of her growing arousal is escaping from her thighs, which she closes quickly.

This isn’t real. I know it isn’t. But I don’t care.

I step closer, pinning Rowan between my body and the commandant’s desk. I grip her hips, filling my hands with her delicious curves. Her skin is like silk, warm and inviting. I sit her atop the desk. A sweep of my shadows and all the books and papers fly to the floor, leaving the surface behind Rowan clear.

She gasps, a shudder running along her throat. The tip of her tongue jets out from between her lips.

My cock twitches in need.

“What punishment do you deserve?” I demand. I brace my hands on the edge of the desk, on either side of Rowan’s hips. Her thighs are parted slightly, her pupils wide.

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