Page 17 of The Sacrifice

“Quinn,” Qora summons me, and I stare up at her through the fog of pain clouding my body.

She gestures to the bed, and I whimper from the sight of the god resting motionless, a layer of my gray vym draped over his body. Something coils tight deep inside me. So close to the dragon, my vym touches his tawny gold skin glowing from the lantern light along with gilded scales. The vym spreads to stroke the strong pillar of his throat, caresses the marble-hard chest, and brushes thick rock-like shoulders.

Marvelous monsters, he’s gorgeous! The kind of physique that would be carved into sky-high statues to guard an infamous temple, worshiped as an idol. Especially with his rugged jaw and intense, sharp cheekbones. Not as sharp as the vampire’s or as high and hypnotizing as the Fae’s, but for a dragon king, they’re flawless.

I inhale the scents of his body from my vym: an earthy, smoky fragrance mixed with a masculine musk and sweat. And the iron hint of blood. The heat from the dragon’s body is damn near close enough to scold. The scales on his hips scrape my leg. Warmth gushes in my naked pussy. Nothing but power muscles in his brawny thighs...meant for—oh! Hunger twists deep within me.

“Quinn!” hisses Qora before collaring my throat with her shadows. “Get a fucking grip!” She groans, regretting her words after they leave. With our minds seemingly connected, she knows exactly where I was considering such a grip. “His heart, Quinn. We need to do this together.”

Nodding frantically, I get a hold of my vym again, binding my mind around the braided cords, grateful to Qora for holding it steady within the dragon’s bloodstream while I was busy ogling him.

Lungs burning, breath fleeing in shallow gasps, I unite with Qora and follow her lead. After all, she’s been watching me all my life. Always seeing what I see, feeling what I feel. She pushes her shadow-vym inside the heart, and I hold onto her coattails, sewing mine into the heart until it becomes seeds splitting open and nourishing the significant muscle. Its beat slows and steadies. From the thundering, violent warhammer of pounding to a strong, yet hot heartbeat of a primal dragon king.

Positions reversed, it’s my turn to thrash. Convulsions seize my body. My heart spasms. In less than a couple of seconds, I’m on the floor, struggling for breath. My muscles weaken, chest squeezing from the pain. Too much blood. Too much blood. I’ve never felt such intensity. It’s sharp and blinding. Hands press in on all sides of me, but voices are muffled. One, alone, resounds in my mind.

Qora’s silk and smoke voice. Rest, you simpering little fool. Maybe the dragon will fuck the idiocy right out of you.

Love you, too, Qora.

My mind shuts down, and I pass out into strong arms.

11

"Get your shiny, prissy robes off now!"

DRAGO

I wake to my muscles groaning in pain and the sight of Mayce sitting in the chair next to my bed with his face buried in his hands.

“Aww, my sweet savant, so worried about me?” I mutter to the Fae.

Mayce shoves out of his chair, upending it, closes the distance between us, and throws his fist into my jaw. Stars blaze in my vision, and I rub my throbbing jaw before my vision clears, so I can stare at my partner, my stunned mouth open. This isn’t Mayce. Violence isn’t his default unless the situation is extreme enough to call for it.

“Why you cocky, conniving little prick,” I growl.

“Such pretentious words for a dunderheaded dragon bastard.”

Red stains my vision. And I barrel for the Fae. It’s not the first time. It won’t be the fucking last. He goads me on. I charge him. He evades me. Gets the better of me countless times before I catch the slippery prick. We fight. Trade blows until we’ve damn near destroyed the tower room.

Finally, Mayce takes both sides of my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine. I don’t rightly give a fuck about whatever condition my body is in. Feels like I’ve been asleep for a century. Muscles erupt in my jaw. Hot emotion bubbles to the surface. Before this, I’d felt nothing but ice in my veins, a fever bridling my mind, hallucinations of my wings turning to dust, of my brothers calling my name through the storm, but I was trapped, wandering in the prison of an endless nightmare.

Doesn’t take long for my relaxed cock to throb to life at the sight of my core partner. A bond we developed as young boys while our parents feasted over peace treaties and prosperous trade routes between the dragons and Fae race. We did our own sort of feasting. And exploring each other’s castles and kingdoms. Before we were cast into the Waste.

“God-eater be damned, get your shiny, prissy robes off now, Mayce,” I growl at him, close to ripping the glittery velvet coat split to show his firm abdomen and slabbed chest. But the Fae would bury me in a shallow grave if I ruined one of his best clothes.

Fucking gods, I love that wicked smirk of his. Merikh’s is evil. Ky’s is sweet. And mine is downright feral. But Mayce’s is the flawless brand of Fae mischief.

I grit my teeth, swallowing hard from the damned male teasing me with the slow removal of his coat, sliding it off his proud shoulders to show off those rippling muscles a step down from mine. Perfect, porcelain skin to contrast my tawny gold. Sunlight on spun glass for his hair. He tosses those graceful locks to one side while his hand descends to his breeches where the evidence of his arousal strains.

I swallow hard and bare my dragon teeth, but Mayce is never intimidated by my threats. Damned Fae can always talk me down with his sharp wit. As wily as a fox. That cocky spirit rouses the feral dragon inside me. He tests my self-control relentlessly and not just because he takes the time to fold his coat and breeches on the chair next to us, offering me a glimpse of his firm backside. Could hardly wait to turn that gorgeous ass as red as my hair.

As soon as Mayce gets within range, I seize his arm and drag him onto the bed, sliding his thighs open. The mattress sinks deep beneath our collective weight. I’m going to come apart if I’m not in him soon. My balls tighten at the sight of his cock so damn long and hard. A tattooed thing of Fae beauty. Superior breeding, we’re all well-endowed, but I’ve a certain fondness for Mayce. On our knees, I line our cocks side by side, grip the Fae by those pretty locks, and thrust his head back.

He groans as I stroke my tongue along his jaw and lower down the curve of his throat, circling his substantial Adam’s apple. “Since I’m the one who had a brush with death, are you going to be a good fairy and submit to me? Or will I need to punish you first?”

“Who should punish who, considering you scared Merikh and Ky half to death and drove me to its damned door?”

I sink my teeth into the flesh of his collarbone, reveling in the rumble from Mayce’s throat. His body quivers, and I know he won’t last much longer. “Wrap your hand around our cocks, Mayce. Bring them together.”

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