Page 17 of Blaze

“I breed the next generation, yes,” he says. “My pheromones are designed to attract hellhound females, making them more amenable to a union. In humans, they tend to make women go utterly mad with desire. Lycaon has to hide me, so I’m not mobbed and raped by females. He selects who I bed, and uses my cock as a bargaining chip to secure alliances. Women can’t deny me anything when I’m inside them. Except for you. I don’t know how you keep your head. And now, you also bear my mark.”

He traces the contours of the mark with his tongue for emphasis and I clench hard around his fingers, pure bliss riding over me in a wave. My knees give out, and only his hands keep me from sinking to the floor in a satisfied heap. When I can blink the stars from my vision, I find him licking my juices languidly from his fingers. The look in his eyes tells me he wants more, possibly to swallow me whole. And then the reality of what he said really his home.

“But... you didn’t know that they wouldn’t work on me in the beginning,” I say slowly, a sick feeling scouring away the euphoria of my climax. “You... you intended to use me.”

Ransom’s eyes are haunted. “Axion did. He’s my king, and his word is law. Our freedom is a limited window and he wanted you to be compliant enough to help us. We don’t have any other allies, and he couldn’t risk you saying no. I know you think we’re monsters, that we’re using you, but I’m not. I thought you deserved to know.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, voice barely audible, the volume choked by rising horror.

“Because I can’t keep things from you. Not after we knotted and I gave you my mark. Now that I’ve claimed you, you’re theonlyone my pheromones work on. I’m useless to Lycaon now. He’d have to kill you to return me to my previous state, and I won’t let that happen. Axion and Maddox can’t either, according to our laws.”

“What are you saying?”

Ransom raises his eyes to mine at last. He looks like a man headed to the gallows. “I’m saying that this mark seals us together as mates. It shouldn’t be possible. I don’t knot with non-hellhound females. I should have spilled inside you, and that should have been the end of it. Either it’s something about your status as a chosen one or...”

“Or what?” I demand, voice rising as I realize what he’s implying.

“That you have a hellhound in your family tree. Perhaps your mother. It would make sense, given your coloring and your failing eyesight.”

Horror spasms through me, even as my mind fits puzzle pieces together. I don’t want it to be true but... I barely resemble Beacon. My affinity for fire magic and partial immunity to flames. Not to mention my father’s casual disdain for me as I grew up. I always assumed he favored Beacon because he was the male heir. The truth could be more insidious. What if I’m the bastard he took in after he knocked up my mother? I do recall a blind woman he kept on staff and that she was called to give him food late at night. I thought hiring her was charity but... Gods, what if she was my mother? She rarely showed her face. What if her hair was the same scarlet as mine? Had the glazed white eyes once been the same burning color as Ransom’s?

“No,” I whisper.

“Blaze, please—” Ransom begins.

But I can’t listen. My world is turning on its axis. Is anything I knew true? Was I never truly human? Am I truly bound to a hellhound I barely know because of the machinations of a bastard king? It’s too much. I can’t listen to his pleas for understanding. I duck out from under his arms and sprint for my room, tears hazing my vision. I slam the door and lock it securely behind me before Ransom can slip in. If he’s in my room, we will have sex. Because he’s my mate. I want him. I willalwayswant him. Gods, how can this be happening to me?

I throw myself onto the plush bed the second I spy it, and wince when something digs into my side. I search the inside of the pockets and draw out the shard of otherworldly glass. It gleams in the light, and I catch sight of the rocky shore of Delerood in its reflection. Without another thought, I bring the shard closer, tipping into the foreign landscape gratefully.

I need to be anywhere but here.

CHAPTER TEN

ARIA

Hook is a madman.

A madman I adore, but still a madman. Who else is thrilled to ride astride a great, bloody dragon, charging into battle with an enormous, anticipatory grin on his face?

A dragon’s talons scythe the water near my face, throwing up a cloud of bubbles that momentarily blind me. It’s difficult to tell through the deluge, but I believe this one’s scales are bronze, instead of sapphire. Veseo, then, not Nouille. The gentle, unassuming dragon almost blends with the tropical waters of Delerood, becoming a difficult target for the harpies that circle like gulls above the water, dropping projectiles at anyone unwary enough to be caught out in the open.

The dragons are mated to another Chosen, Princess Briar Rose, but she decided, after some debate with them, that my need for their assistance was greater than hers. She has an undead protector to see to her safety during the land battle with Morningstar. The dragons are needed here, deep beneath the waves, where the grotesquerie run wild, courtesy of Sol.

Against all odds, the sun god had managed to batter through our many defenses and vaporize my Aunt Cassiopeia, leaving nothing but a sodden pile of ash where the once great woman reigned. And with her death, the enchantments that held the grotesquerie at bay crumbled, allowing the monsters of the deep to terrorize the ocean once more. I can keep them at arm’s length with the trident with enough focus, but I’m not a veteran. It will take many years to master the many facets of its power, and we don’t have that kind of time. Sol is here, now, and I have to destroy him before he makes his way ashore, setting the land ablaze, killing every ally of mine in the process. My heart aches every time I consider Aunt Opeia’s death, but I stuff that pain down, slashing the water in front of me with the trident as a swarm of fire eels comes streaking toward us. The best way to honor her memory is to free her kingdom.

The eels burst into a cloud of sparks, immediately doused by the water, before the rubbery black scraps that remain spiral into the abyss below. Veseo lets out a beastly roar that shakes the water around me. I feel it in my bones, though the sound is dampened by the water. I can only imagine it would be deafening on land. It’s enough to startle a juvenile kraken in his path. It swings wide of him, only to end up squarely in the sights of Nouille, who tears it in half with one savage twist of his jaws. Blood plumes like smoke in the water, momentarily blinding several of my soldiers. It’s no matter, though. They’re largely safe, sheltering behind the durable hides of the two dragons and their riders.

Andric flashes a brief, triumphant smile as the twitching kraken falls. He’s seated on Nouille’s back, keeping low in the makeshift saddle, unlike Hook, who’s killing almost as many monsters as Veseo. Instead of his hook, there’s a short sword strapped to the end of his arm, and his usual blade in his good hand. He rises up in the saddle often, slashing throats, lopping off heads, and generally living up to his fearsome reputation as a deadly pirate. It’s not the time to feel desire, but I do find myself wanting to drag him to bed more with every enemy he slays. And Andric... gods and goddesses, am I happy to have him back. I’d begun to fear he’d slumber forever until Briar woke him. I’ll owe her for the rest of my days.

Though, if Sol has his way, this one will be my last.

Bastion pulls just ahead of me, deflecting a beam of Sol’s fire from me. It comes in at an oblique angle, just shy of my periphery. It wouldn’t have killed me immediately, but the thin beam would have almost certainly blinded me, which would prove fatal in the end. A blind soldier can’t hit as many targets. After all, how would I know where to aim the trident if I can’t see an enemy coming?

“Thank you,” I say in an undertone.

“It’s my job, my Queen,” he responds.

I don’t correct him on the formal address. I’ve nearly broken him of the habit in the bedroom, but it persists when we’re on the battlefield. It’s the way it’s always been, when we were both warriors under Aunt Opeia’s command. The reminder will only slow him down. Instead, I rub my tail reassuringly against his.

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