Page 7 of The Surrender

I don’t respond. Beat my wings harder instead. Clench my jaw when I remember the handfasting ceremony from the binding of our blood to the drinking of wine to carrying her to our bed. Erya, her name thunders within my mind and burns my blood like a lightning strike. He never trusted her.

Poor, sweet, naive Kyan, he taunts me. Does he still love a scar?

“Shut the fuck up,” I warn him and whirl into a deep dive over the next peak, wishing the wind would lash him from my thoughts. I drive the vortex all around me until I’m lost in its rage, but it’s not enough to wipe out the memories. Or his goddamned voice.

Pick at that scab some more, old friend. Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it fester. She will see, yes, she will. And the mad, little dear will run far, far away!

Fury quakes through me. I fall back into the wind current and funnel more power into them until they are deafening. But no amount of wind blaring in my eardrums can cull the voice haunting me.

So naïve thinking I’m your ghost when I’m your ever-so devoted guardian angel.

I don’t refute him because he’s only half-wrong. But I don’t get the chance to argue more. Plenty of time for that later. Another storm brews—one I’ve been looking forward to as he approaches in the distance, his enormous figure looming through the gray expanse. Heat rouses me, and I grin, eager for the guarantee of bones breaking, bruises forming, blood spewing. It will be a worthy distraction from the current company.

Oh, you wound me, Ky-Ky. Tsk, tsk, tsk...Shadow scolds me and a deep sigh escapes my lungs. Will I get none of the fun then? I wrestle him down, denying him any urge to rear up and steal this moment. A dark thrill pulses inside me as my brother beats his wings harder once he sees me.

Relaxing my shoulders, I fold my hands behind my head, splay my feathers, and lean back as if an imaginary bed of pillows props up my body. He might have some pretty shiny wings, but everyone knows I’m the best fucking flier.

“Fly, fly, fly our muscly dragon man. But you can’t catch me, no, you never can!” his voice slips out, and I heave a groan but follow with a roll of my eyes and a simper crooking one side of my mouth.

Hovering in midair, thanks to the wind currents I’ve directed to shudder below me, I close my eyes and hum an old tune to myself. Even from this distance, I feel the wind from his body rippling against my power.

“Come closer, pretty dragon,” croons the damned demon. I grit my teeth and cage a growl. Although he seems determined to stick around, no way in hell will I let him spoil my flight.

Compromise is a must for any relationship, Ky-Ky.

“Fuck off,” I mutter under my breath.

I’d rather fuck her.

“Top of the morning to you, brother,” I greet Drago, eyes still closed, body still relaxed. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” I taunt, considering the gray atmosphere and the sky seething with clouds pregnant with thunder and rain.

“Where the fuck is she?” he demands.

I peek one eye open. Smoke steams from my brother’s nostrils while sparks surge from the clenched skin of his fists. With his flames quivering all around his charged wings and swinging tail, Drago looks every inch the Dragon God of Fire. His muscles bulge, and a tremor erupts in his body while he puffs flames from that powerful muzzle.

“Mmm...oh, Quinny dear. She’s back at the castle. Sleeping like a baby queen. I’d advise you to let her rest. She needs it after I wore her out all night.” I close my eyes again, already anticipating the blow from my hotheaded brother.

It’s enough to disrupt my currents, rattle me around until I’m laughing and swinging in a wide arc to combat him. As much as Merikh is our resident psycho, I take great pride in antagonizing our eldest brother the most. There’s a reason why he and Mayce partner better as lovers while I prefer Merikh’s company. At least the vampire knows when to shut the fuck up.

Blood simmers in my veins, and I clench my muscles, shifting my neck from side to side as my wings beat tempered wind at him.

“I don’t care how angelic you are, pretty boy. You’re still a fucking asshole.”

I spread my hands out and nod to him. “Aren’t we all?” Pumping my wings to veer to one side, I start to circle my brother and wink at him. “No need for your theatrics, Drago. Unlike you, I’m prepared to share.”

Drago is so fucking predictable. His pupils dilate, and I imagine nothing but blood clouds his vision. I roll my eyes and easily maneuver out of the way when the wave of flames surges from his hands.

Feigning a yawn, I pulse my wings to a quick tempo, the nerves in them hypersensitive, muscles primed for whatever he can throw at me—doomed to miss. Every. Goddamned. Time. I’ll give him props for determination. It’s the fiercest I’ve seen Drago yet, and I appreciate how hard he works me.

We’re two evenly matched predators thanks to our distinctive powers. Dark energy courses through us both. We’re wild with it. Little more than monsters, and my baser, owl-like instincts rear to the surface. After all, when wind fans the flames, things are bound to get a little...heated.

“Hover for one second, flyboy, and I’ll roast all the pretty hair from your head,” threatens Drago, surging another hail of fire toward me.

Swinging out of the way at the last second in a taunt, I applaud him in open mockery. “You almost singed the hairs of my arms on that one, brother. And isn’t her hair lovely after a fucking? Did I mention I had it wrapped around my fist while I fucked her until she passed out last night? And kept going?”

Another volley of fire. My laugh is high-pitched and maniacal, so I know the demon is having his fun the more I dodge my brother’s flaming blows. A dragon swatting at a dragonfly, but the fly will always be quicker. Sweat streams down our bodies, but I haven’t had this much fun in centuries! A few more well-timed taunts involving Quinny’s tight, little pussy rile him up even more.

After enjoying the back-and-forth antics and banter for a time, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle to attention. The storm is thrashing its way across the mountains.

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