Page 47 of Dragons' Mate
Keep your head down, little wildcat, Tavias urges inside my mind.We are all here. You were brave. Exquisite. Generous. We all know it, even if we can’t show it just now. Not just yet.
The priests’ conference concludes. My stomach sinks.
“Have your requirements been satisfied, my priest?” Tavias bows low.
I hate that he is bowing for the order. For the damn priests.
"It was nevermyrequirement, Tavias," the head priest declares, his tone solemn, "but the Goddess Orion’s test.”
“Of course.” Tavias bows again. I know the priest is just milking this now and my hatred for him grows several notches.
He inhales dramatically. “Yes. I can see the human has been brought to heel. I advise you to keep her there, as the Goddess shall not be so generous in the future.”
Tavias goes to the priests to express gratitude that I can’t bear to listen to while Hauck's strong arms encircle me, lifting me gently off the cold stone floor. His warmth seeps into my trembling flesh as he cradles me against his chest. As he carries me to the sidelines, I become acutely aware of the dozens of eyes that bore into us still. Geoffrey’s and Bianca’s and Ettienne’s. Everyone who saw me lose all control, be swatted and taken, and driven to beg for release.
Heat fills my face. But there's nowhere to hide, nothing to do but endure the stares as I try to regain some semblance of control over my shattered body and scattered thoughts.
“You are gorgeous when you come,” Hauck says, nipping my ear. “The moment we walk free of this pit, I want to see how many new ways I can conjure up to bring you pleasure.”
I know he means well—hell, he probably means every word—but I can’t bring myself to respond. He shifts me on his lap, and then Cyril is there with a wet cloth to wipe my skin.
“I know you enjoyed that,” Cyril says with a hint of a smile. “Bloody stars, I think the whole kingdom knows it. And we enjoyed it no less intensely.”
I turn my face. I did enjoy it. And isn’t that the whole problem? That I lost control of everything and begged for mindless pleasure like the animal the priests make the humans to be?
“She is dropping,” Hauck says over my head. I don’t know what that means but concern flickers over Cyril’s face even as he strokes a knuckle along my cheekbone.
Quinton appears at my side, a glass of water in hand. “Drink, human.”
“I’d rather have wine,” I say. Around us, the hall is slowly turning to a cacophony of moans and cries as other packs remember the priest's initial orders and hurry to prove their humans compatible. The air is thick with lust and sweat, and the sounds of flesh against flesh echoing through the room.
“No.” Quinton presses the water to my lips. “Drink the water.”
I do, not realizing how badly I needed the cool liquid until it trickles down my parched throat.
With tender hands, Hauck begins to dress me, carefully sliding my clothes back into place. His deftness with the chest binding and dress straps speak of experience I’ve always known he’s had. The soft fabric brushes against my hypersensitive skin, reigniting sparks of sensation that sends shudders down my spine. I can't meet anyone's gaze.
I hear it then. The call of the familiar song that pulls me toward it. The musicians are long gone and nothing about the male’s faces suggest that they note anything strange. I draw in a breath and use Hauck’s muscled shoulder to climb to my feet. I want my body back. My control of it.
Cyril moves to spot me immediately, but Quinton meets my gaze and holds his brother back.
“She can stand,” he says with curt finality. “She is one of our pack, not a doll.”
That’s… Somehow that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. Not that I say that aloud. Instead, I clear my throat. “Do you hear that?” I ask. “The music. A song. Slow, like a lullaby.”
Quinton’s mouth tightens, Hauck and Cyril exchanging glances.
Clearly, they do not.
I shake my head. “Alright, so maybe I’m not all together in my right mind yet.”
Hauck extends his hand, beckoning me back toward him. “My pride would be irreparably wounded if after all that you got your mind back so quickly. Come soothe my fragile ego and pretend you need me a bit longer?”
“Actually, I’m going to use the privy.”
“I’ll take you,” Cyril offers.
“No.” I realize my voice has risen and check it quickly. “Please,” I raise my palms. “Just let me do something on my own. Using the privy isn’t a group experience.”
