Page 38 of The Sacrifice

“Hmm...why? Are you unhappy, sweet pet?” I tense and press my fingers along her sternum, already tempted to drag them down to the tight, warm channel of her pussy. But even my insatiable slut needs a reprieve now and then.

You know what will happen if she tries to leave, warns my Dragon, and I growl internally, body hardening. More of my scales rise to my chest, but I control myself, preferring not to turn into my half-dragon state, however much my little pet enjoys it.

“Of course not, Master Drago,” she denies, swinging her head upright and leaning away from Mayce, so she may wrap her legs around my waist. Since I’m sitting on the highest step of the steam pool with only my lower legs immersed, all of her body is bared to me. Such a pretty vision with her pale moonlike skin pressed to my rugged, dark gold. So unfathomably soft even with the tapestry of tattoos.

She squeezes those thighs, and my cock has no choice but to respond and jerk against her pussy. Oh, I’ve come to recognize that mischievous glint in her eye right before she rubs that pretty cunt over my length, the little vixen.

“Everything is lovely. After all, there are far worse things than being the prized of the monster kings...” she emphasizes the most common name I call her by and arches when Mayce cups her waist from behind and kisses her shoulders. I thread my brows low in a warning to my Fae partner as I’ve warned all my brothers. I’m the damnedest devil of all because I know how much they long for her, even if Merikh won’t admit it. But only my cock has penetrated all her hot pink flesh. And that’s the way it’ll stay...for now.

Cupping her face, nearly swallowing it with my large hands, I dig my eyes into hers and inform her, “Whatever you desire, it’s yours, Quintessa.”

Mayce goes on to tantalize her with his words of finery. “If you wish for a masked ball with every being from the Waste attending solely to dance with you, all you need do is say the word. If you care for a throne in court next to ours, we will order one of the grandest dragon bones fused with gold, where all will worship you.”

With an affectionate smile, Tessie blushes. I dart my eyes between hers, studying their depths—so pale and silver, they are icy and iridescent. Like the tears of the moon.

“Mmm...” she presses her lips to mine in a soft kiss and moans as Mayce kisses his way down her spine, worshipping her in his own way. “As tempting as that sounds, my wish would never be for something so grand. But...” she chews on her inner cheek and begins to toy with my red waves, combing her fingers through them. My heart lodges in my throat, and even Mayce has paused in his journey midway down her back. “...there has to be more to your life here in the Waste than simply eating, drinking, fucking, and healing. You have a court, but I never see anything happen besides the four of you sitting with your creepy masks on and watching the villagers dance and...other things,” she trails off again, but her tone softens while she blushes—the implication of that blush confirming just what those “other things” are.

Mayce and I share a look. I lift one brow and ask her, “Would you like a mask, little pet?”

She tips her head back and groans. “It’s not about the mask, Drago. You mean to tell me you’ve lived like this for centuries? Who was that hag in the woods? And what about Hollow Night?”

I stiffen, careful when I harden my muscles around her small frame. Mayce draws his brows low in a warning. As if I require a reminder, I bare a few dragon teeth in response.

Rising, I lift Tessie by her waist and set her on her feet, loving the flames flickering across her skin as if frolicking with her tattoos. “Now, now, pet. No time for questions. We have a court to get to in just a few hours. And you are far from ready.”

She lifts a brow, flinching from the robe settling on her shoulders but smiling as soon as she sees Eyn-Amaru standing behind her. “Ready?”

“As adorable as you are wearing our clothes, tonight is the Solstice. And I have high expectations.”

“How high?” she wonders while the bird-like servant ties the sashes of her robe.

I tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear, curve my fingers beneath her chin to lift her eyes to mine, and say, “Royally high.”

28

Queen of the Ash Court

QUINTESSA

Oh, there are absolutely far worse things than being the prized pet of the monster kings.

Despite how Eyn-Amaru folded the robe around my body, smothering some of the embers, more have traveled to my hair, lingering like a glowing crown. Drago offered many other servants as my personal attendant, but I insisted on Eyn-Amaru. Smiling, I nod a thank you, glancing at her eyes of a deep, mahogany to contrast the gray half-bird skull. She may not say much, but her features often show that twisted smile.

Drago follows us into the tower room. He doesn’t need to lift a finger to light all the lanterns and the chandelier suspended far above us. I’ve come to understand the fire obeys according to his will. As much a part of him as his scales. I love how some shimmer upon his rock-hard chest, exposed to his sternum from his own robe. If he has a greater dragon form, he hasn’t revealed it to me. Yet.

The flames illuminate Qora who hovers near the window. Guilt twinges inside me because I haven’t spoken to her much these few days. And she won’t leave the castle. Not even to follow me outside where I explore the grounds. We haven’t spoken about what happened to her, what she felt.

As he passes by me, the dragon king rubs my bottom, and I clench my thighs on instinct. And throw him a mischievous smile. After all my years of walking through life numb as icy bones, I’m not starved for touch. I’m addicted to it.

A servant bearing a platter of meat and fruit follows Drago to his bed where the king sprawls out, propping his head on one hand. After dipping a cut of ham into berry sauce, he circles his fingers, gesturing the servants to me. I’ve learned not to be self-conscious. If he wants me naked, I’ll be naked.

As soon as Eyn-Amaru urges me toward the massive stand-up mirror, another servant relieves me of the robe. Hundreds of little embers flicker upon my body, seeming to sprout from nowhere. Except, I always know when they shine brightest. Earlier after breakfast, Drago announced he was treating himself to an early morning dessert. My laughter had turned to moans when Mayce and Kyan held me down, so the Dragon King could feast between my thighs until I screamed loud enough to attract all the servants. He took me on the table, and I screamed louder when the flames spiraled high and set one of the tapestries ablaze. Ever since, the embers have acted like tiny passengers riding upon my skin. They’ll fade in a few hours.

“Oh, Jinxy,” I giggle at the little fox chasing his tails on the other side of the room. He’s grown plumper over the past few days thanks to some good meals. Much to the chagrin of the god-kings, I brought him to the healing pool. It didn’t take long for his fur to grow back.

I’ve grown, too.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask Drago as he plucks a few grapes and toys with them between his fingers.

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