Page 7 of The Lost Nation

The blood witchis here because you were strong enough to survive.Finish the ritual.

“5. 4. 3—”

I forced myself to keep going, finishing the sigil a little more sloppily than I’d planned. I hurriedly brought the knife back to my chest, then carefully set it down inside the circle. Just because the hard part was over didn’t mean I was done.

“Stretch. Center yourself.”The witch soothed.

Right. I carefully undid the markings on the floor, struggling not to overbalanceas my stiff muscles screamed in protest.I took a moment to carefully stretch, ensuring I had full control. I put my fist out in front of me, andpushedthe circle away. The markings around me went dark.

I slumped to the ground covered in blood and sweat. A sea witch washed the rest of the markings away, mixing uselessly with water as all traces of the ritual drained away.

Benedict scooped me into his arms, and I winced as pain assaulted me.“Not bad for a beginner. Rest, then try them out.”

I responded by biting down into on his shoulder, my body relaxing as his blood worked quickly to heal the ache in my muscles and fresh lacerations. As soon as the last twinge of pain disappeared, I licked my bites clean and nicked my wrist with a claw.

My runes shimmered to life on my skin, flashing white with magick as the excess left my body is a large whoosh. An air witch gave a startled yelp, and the magick settled back into the ground. I felt amazing.

It's incredible how I'd taken being pain-free for granted. My blood was racing, and the dragon sigil on my shoulders was chasing its tail over my shoulder and under my armpit, over and over.

I felt like I could fight an army and win. I turned to Benedict, my eyes filled with challenge.

Benedict grinned, and grasped me tightly.We disappeared in a wisp of smoke, reappearing in one of the warm pools on the other side of the island. A small waterfall fed the pool, which was just big enough that a few drakens could likely fit.

Benedict sank down into the warm water with me in his arms. It felt heavenly to wash away the sweat and dried blood. I noticed vaguely I wasn't anxious at all at being in the water anymore.

I wondered if Thad had helped me over come that, or if I'd done it myself. In the end I supposed it didn't matter. I glanced over Benedict's shoulder, half-expecting to see Thad's dark silhouette watching from the corner--like i had been for months in the fortress.

Benedict misinterpreted my look.“It's just you and me right now.The others are preparing you dinner.”

My stomach growled on cue, and I flushed.I couldn’t argue withthat.

Benedict ran his fingers through my hair, gently combing out the dirt and grime.“What’s wrong?”He asked.

I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing how another male had helped me withanything.

So I stayed silent.

He set me down gently on my feet, the water only up to my waist. His hands ghosted over my shoulders, and then caressed my jaw.“It’s about Thad, isn’t it?”

I glanced down at the water, and Benedict didn’t push further as he continued to use his hands to wipe away the lingering grime from my ritual. I closed my eyes, quickly relaxing as his hands gently stroked my skin.

Benedict's kissed my temple, his voice low.“I am thankful he got you through the ordeal alive.”

I blinked back unexpected tears.My feelings for Thad were so complicated. I couldn't tell what was real anymore. Did I only want to mate with him out of gratitude, or some kind of twisted crush that developed through my captivity?

Benedict lifted my chin so I was looking straight into his amethyst gaze.“You know that I would never object to another mate, if it meant you were better protected.”

I released a breath, my tense shoulders loosening.Thad and Benedict hadn’t exactly gotten along, so I was surprised Benedict would say he would accept Thad as a mate. Not that it mattered anyway, since Thad had rejected me.

Instead of buoying my spirits, Benedict's admission only fed the guilt that festered in my chest.I hadthreeincredible attentive mates, and all I could do was pout about the one whodidn’twant me.I didn't deserve my mates. I didn't deserve anyone.

Benedict clicked his tongue.“You’re thinking too hard.”

His hands started to wander, and forced me to focus on him. His rough palms skimmed over my stomach and breasts, the calluses in his handcausing goosebumps to erupt along my skin. My breath caught as they grazed a nipple.

He dipped down and kissed me, one hand kneading and pinching my breats, the other keeping my body steady in the water as I melted under him. I threaded my arms around his neck, and my left hand reached down his back to stroke a leathery wing.

“Siren—"He growled, a note of pleading in his voice. I grinned.Thiswas how I liked my men...begging.It made me feel powerful, in control—like I was worth something.

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