Page 27 of Daghel

I do not understand the appeal when roasted meat dripping with juices would have inspired my hunger far more than the sweets contained within these doors. Yet, this was the only shop within scenting distance of a human’s weak nose. It had to be it.

“Daghel, thank goodness. I didn’t think I would ever catch up,” she pants as she comes to a stop at my side and doubles over, struggling to catch her breath. “Just so you know, running in these layers is not a great joy.”

I glance down at her sympathetically, an apology on my lips, when suddenly her nose wrinkles and her eyes widen with delight as a smile stretches across her face. She comes close toshoving me entirely out of the way as she pushes ahead to the shop.

“A bakery! I thought that was what I smelled.” Her laughter falls excitedly from her lips, and despite being set off balance, another smile creeps onto my face at the concentrated glow of her pleasure that she turns on me. “Do we have time to go in?”

“Of course,” I reply. “You are hungry, are you not? I must see to my female being satisfied in all ways.”

A red flush creeps into the pinkness already staining her cheeks from the cold air, but I am so charmed by it that something flutters and awakens within me when she stands on her toes to brush a kiss against my cheek.

“I will be sure to return the favor,” she whispers before lowering once more to the flats of her feet.

I move to drag her back into my arms and inquire more about this favor, but she laughingly dances out of my reach before hurrying into the bakery. Amused, I follow her into the shop docilely as I turn her loose upon the proprietors. I do not need to take the lead in this matter. I am content to remain her shadow as she gleefully descends up them, catching the male behind the counter off guard by her enthusiasm as she proceeds to order enough to feed a half-dozen families. I smirk, imagining the way Drisk will grumble when he sees all that we will be returning with.

Arms crossing indulgently over my chest, I lean against a support beam and watch with amusement as the baker fills a large basket with sweet bread after sweet bread and a selection of pastries with every new thing my female discovers. Although the male is initially wary because of my presence, and his eyes frequently shift to me as if wondering what a drehl is doing in the lower village, he gets into the spirit quickly and relaxes under the spell of my mate’s idle chatter. She has a talent for this, I realize. In contrast to my surliness, she is like a warm, invitinghearth, drawing those to her like so many moths to a flame. Of course, such a fire is also death to the moths, but they do not seem to realize it, and in truth, Anya is content enough that she is unlikely to harm her admirer as he dances around her.

I might harm him, but that is another matter and entirely dependent on just how far he dares to go. I patiently drum my claws on my biceps as I wait, and that seems enough of a reminder for the male not to become too smitten.

“The drehl is your mate, is he?” he inquires—almost too politely—but my mate’s sweet laughter brushes away whatever offense I felt rising in response to it.

“Oh yes. Daghel and Drisk… they are both mine,” she replies cheerfully and with a pride that warms the cockles of my withered, blackened heart.

“Daghel… an appropriate name, I would say, and a gathol at that, from what you say. That male certainly looks like the embodiment of death,” he grumbles as he glances over at me again, and I meet his eyes with a hard smile.

The male shivers in response and bends his head to focus on his task while my mate continues to talk about everything under the sun with a feigned exuberance that I know is partially for show in order to take advantage of local gossips. She is not only charismatic but cunning, my lovely little wyva.

Settling back against the beam once more, I leave Anya to her game as my gaze drifts toward the activity on the street. There are a surprising number of human females mixed among the females of my people. Since when had our raids returned with so many? Granted, it has been six years since I have been this far down the mountains when not raiding, but it catches me by surprise. My eyes narrow as I peer at them, and a coldness draws around me as I feel the wispy smoke of darkness invading me once more. To my relief, it does not attempt to consume my will and possess me like it did before. Instead, it is merely a lighttouch from a distance. But it is enough that its presence triggers a violent response within me.

I catch sight of the wraithlike shadowy form of the darkness moving among the dimly lit edges of the festivities. Vaporous black tendrils rise and twist from a vague form of a tall, powerful male whose head turns to watch the activity of orcs and humans on the street. Its movements are predatory, almost imperceptible, amidst its perfect stillness. A feeling of death whispers from it, and I feel as if a vise is squeezing around my heart as I struggle to draw a breath. It straightens then and turns its head toward me. I can feel the penetrating blackness of its stare as I get the impression of a broad smile stretching over its face as it stares back at me. Silently bidding me to let it in. The instinct to accept is nearly overpowering, but I grit my teeth and battle against it, refusing to succumb.

The sound of nearby laughter jolts through me and my head instinctively turns toward it, my senses zealously narrowing in on the source as my hand goes to my side, reaching for my weapon. I catch myself just in time and draw my hand away as my gaze falls on a bulky male entering with his rosy-cheeked mate. The female laughs in response to something he murmurs into her ear, but her laughter dies as the couple’s gaze turns toward me. The male immediately bristles as if sensing a threat from me—but I am accustomed to this reaction. I do nothing more than lift an eyebrow when his arm tightens around her and he hurries her further into the shop, putting a fair amount of distance between them and me.

Absurd. As if I am more of a threat than that thing out there… and they cannot even seem to see it. My lip curling, I whirl back around, but the darkness is gone, leaving not even a trace that its presence was once there. Strange. It had been hunting and yet no alarm went up. No screams of terror as it possessed the innocent to feed. Perhaps the merriment had beeneffective on the darkness as it was said to be on the spirit of Durethikal. It is a puzzle but one I relinquish when Anya’s hand settles on my forearm, drawing my gaze down to her smiling face. Possessiveness rises within me at that smile, and a need to stamp my claim and bellow it out in defiance. It shall never take her from me.

“Hey, are you ready?”

I incline my head in agreement and offer my arm as she hugs her basket to her. “Did you get what you hungered for?”

“Almost,” she teases, and my cock tightens with interest in my surc.

“I have an idea of something that can completely satisfy you,” I purr as we step back out onto the street.

She glances over at me with an intrigued smile, and without hesitation, I take the lead, relying on memories from a great many years past as I draw her down the road, herding her into a hidden little alcove off the street. Her eyes dance with warmth as I take her basket and set it on an iced-over edge of a fountain, but not before reaching within it and removing a sticky, sweet roll that smells of cinnamon and sugar. The icing smears on my fingers, and her tongue trails over them, licking up the sweetness. I press the roll to her lips, and she opens with a moan as I fill her mouth with it.

“Satisfy your hunger, wyva, and I will take care of the other,” I growl, delving beneath her skirts for the delectable heat blossoming between her legs.

She bites into it and shivers as I lean into her, backing her forcibly against the stone wall as her lust curls around me and teases my senses. I hold her there with one hand, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure as she slowly eats the roll, as the other delves into a gap in my surc’s fabric to grasp my cock. A quiver of pleasure runs through me, and I cannot resist stroking it afew times as my hunger roars forth, this time wholly me and untainted.

Pulling my cock free with one hand, I turn her to face the wall, dragging her round bottom to me. I cannot see its fine shape concealed as it is beneath the fabric, but when my hands delve beneath her skirts to her warm, silky skin, I grasp it firmly in my palms, spreading the globes wide as my cock nestles against the wet scrap of material covering her slit. Pushing it aside with an impatient hand, I guide my length into her and rock forward, hissing with pleasure at the sound of her choked squeal around her mouth full of sweets as I plunder her drenching cunt that opens so hungrily for me.

I take her against the wall, my hips swiveling in a rapid tempo, her pleased moans rising amid the slurping sounds of her sex on my cock and her lips dragging the bits of sugar and spice from her fingers. It is a maddeningly erotic sound that only makes me drive into her harder, following the gnawing path of our hunger until her cunt seizes tightly around me, triggering an electric spark rushing through me, milking the hot streams of cum from my balls as we shout our completion together.

A soft growl parts from my lips as my cock twitches in her tight clutch, delivering another thick stream. I lean forward, my body covering hers, and I press a kiss to her sweaty brow. Darkness stalking us or not, she is ours and may the gods pity anyone who tries to separate us.

Chapter

Nineteen

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