A Lair So Loyal (The Last Dragorai Book 2) Read online

Page 15


  Oshali immediately began casting, maneuvering the magic as quickly as she could around them and lifting them up high into the air. Using repetitive, punchy rhythms, she nudged the magic into throwing them in a somewhat controlled manner across the space, although they couldn't stay upright with that kind of speed. They turned and jolted like dolls being thrown around. Oshali desperately tried to keep the casting going and keep hold of the girl, but halfway across, she could feel the urge returning and she knew she wasn't going to make it. She was so disorientated, could hardly see where they were, or if there was another wall she could land them on. But just as the urge began to crest over her, something hard slammed into her body.

  She shuddered, groaning as the girl's hand was yanked out of hers. "No," she moaned.

  The leathery feel of whatever caught her panicked her a bit, as did the hard edges pressing into her. Oshali tried to move and take in her surroundings, but the thing was around her torso. As she looked around she almost screamed. She was in the clutches of some kind of beast, who held her in its foot, loose enough not to squeeze her, but tight enough that she couldn't move. She looked around for Uraya but couldn't see her.

  "I thought we discussed that you were not going to do this again, little cloak.” Tyomar appeared before her, buoyed by magic as he soared along with her. Relief filtered through her at the sound of his voice.

  “Is this your dragon?”

  “Yes.”

  "The girl… who was with me?"

  "My brother has her."

  Oshali finally relaxed in relief. And when she stopped resisting, the desperate urges set in.

  She squeezed her arms close to her body as she shuddered.

  "Oshali," Tyomar barked out her name, alarmed. "Why do you smell like that? And why the fuck are you naked?"

  "Please," Oshali muttered. "I need my Gowns. Get me my…"

  A powerful growl tore out of his throat, sending vibrations of pleasure through her body, tweaking her nipples, and tingling between her legs. "Stop," Oshali pleaded. "Don't make it worse."

  Tyomar pried her out of his dragon’s foot and held her close to him, and Oshali whimpered, breathing in his scent as he twisting through the air. Finally he landed on something solid. When she opened her eyes, they were moving through the air on fairly flat surface that undulated underneath her. His dragon.

  Tyomar tore off Oshali's cloak and pressed her down onto the dragon’s back, opening her legs and yanking her underneath him.

  "You can't take me here," she gasped. "Don't."

  "You need it," Tyomar said darkly. "In a moment you will beg me for it.”

  "Not on your dragon."

  "Why not? He would be honored."

  Oshali lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “You left me.”

  But before she could continue, desire burned through Oshali so hard that she lost all train of thought. Dropping her head back down, she writhed, opening her legs and pleading for her alpha. She was no longer able to think about anything but her need for the alpha whose desire she could scent all around her.

  11

  Oshali was delectable in her heat.

  It wasn’t as though Tyomar thought she’d be anything less, but the surprise of getting her back in that amazingly wet and appealing condition was like a gift from the Goddesses.

  She let her cloak drop from her body and spread her legs, urging him to do what he was supposed to.

  But Tyomar just admired her for a long moment. This was his woman, his little cloak, and now he knew she was so much more. Beautiful, smart, willful, and talented, she was everything he could ever want or need.

  But it was in this moment, when she had fallen slave to her carnal desires, that he was the most thrilled about. This was the state in which she could conceive. One sniff of her in that condition and he lost all concerns about everything else. Hopefully, his brothers, who had insisted on following Ryndross—who’d escaped the incantations to hold him—would deal with the queen and whatever friend Oshali had picked up.

  She was, of course, upset about him leaving, which secretly pleased him considering how much she’d wanted him gone at the beginning. And hells, leaving was the hardest thing he’d ever done. But she would have to come to terms with the fact it was necessary. If she had been listening to anything he’d said, she would have known he would come back for her, no matter how long it took. Granted, it was a shock to find out that the queen had intercepted her, and he was positively furious that she was somehow naked and in her heat—that was no accident. But coming to the queen’s palace gave them a chance to observe her and her defenses, the way they had been planning. From what they could tell, the queen was doing experiments with magic and ember.

  Tyomar hovered over her his little, writhing omega, drinking in the gorgeous sight, sound, and scent of her, then leaned down to lick, suck and bite her tender nipples. He couldn’t get enough of those hard peaks.

  Oshali let out an anguished moan, caressing his head and neck, and arching her back. He kissed down her stomach and licked her inner thighs, taking a moment to breathe in the incredible potency of her scent during her heat, and the shine of her glistening kon made his mouth water.

  He buried his mouth between her legs, lashing her with his tongue and terrorizing her with his mouth until she screamed, thrashing and humping her hips for more. But when she started whimpering, almost crying as she shuddered uncontrollably, he knew it was time.

  Pressing his cock to the hilt, he grunted from the intense squeeze and Oshali sighed, satisfied to be so full.

  When he started to fuck her, building from a hard, jolting rhythm to furiously rapid, splattering slaps, it was messy and loud and raw. There were many women who couldn’t keep up with the ferocious sexual nature of the dragorai, but his Oshali wasn’t one of them. She had taken to his rough nature from the beginning—she clearly craved it. Oshali eagerly spread and bent herself in every way she could, and Tyomar sought to claim the deep reaches of her, filling her up and dragging that sensitive flesh on his cock until she convulsed in never-ending orgasms.

  By the time she collapsed exhausted, he was covered in her saliva and her slick, and he’d covered her in his seed and sweat, just the way it should be. But the fresh air was continually blowing away their scent. It was unsettling. They were supposed to immerse themselves into an environment saturated with their scents so the female could feel comfortable, as if she were in a nest or a small cavern. Even a bed with plentiful sheets would do.

  Tyomar fixed Oshali in his arms so she could smell him while she slept, covered her with her cloak, and looked around. Thankfully, they were nearly at his mountain range, but his brothers were nowhere to be seen. They probably stayed in the south to continue investigating the queen—he couldn’t recall anything after he scented Oshali’s heat.

  As they reached his mountain range, Ryndross spiraled around to his lair.

  Each of the Vattoro brothers owned an extensive mountain range that bordered each other, which sat between the two continents that made up the Twin Realms. Each brother had forged a lair as their home base within their own mountain range.

  Tyomar was eager to show Oshali his lair. He was aware that some dragorai females liked to take ownership of their male’s lairs while others were happy to live in it without doing so. Tyomar was curious which Oshali would prefer. This was her new home and he wanted her to feel comfortable. However, his dragon didn’t slow down as he arrived at the lair entrance.

  “Ryndross!” Tyomar barked. But his dan askha continued on, soaring higher into the sky and farther over the range. Tyomar ordered him to go back to the lair, using incantations to force him there, but Ryn was in a good mood. He roared and released a stream of fire into the air, gently dipping and swerving over their territory.

  Tyomar laughed. “If you don’t get us back before she wakes, I’m blaming you,” he warned.

  Ryndross screeched, the sharp sound ringing across the mountain range, then angling back around Tyom
ar’s mountain lair. He still didn’t slow down, but this time, as they passed the entrance, Tyomar cast an incantation to lift him and Oshali up from his dragon’s back and drift them over to land softly at the entrance.

  When he entered, his long-time, loyal steward approached, a white-haired, bearded man.

  “Welcome back, Master,” the steward greeted, eyeing Oshali in his arms. “Everything in the lair is in order. Is there anything you need?”

  “We used to have some small caverns that were good for transitions. Are they free?”

  The steward’s brows raised, his eyes bulging. “Yes, they are in parts of the lair we don’t use much… Would you like me to prepare them for you?”

  “No,” Tyomar said, heading toward his chambers. Oshali would not be asleep for long and he wanted her in comfort when she woke. “Not for right now, but I will need them soon. Make sure they are ready in a few days. Get someone to bring extra bedding to my chambers first.”

  Tyomar lay Oshali down on his bed and he pulled off her cloak before surrounding her with blankets, sheets, and pillows.

  “Is there anything else you need, Master?” The steward hovered by the door.

  “If there is any member of staff who is knowledgeable about heats and conception, I need to speak with them,” Tyomar asked, stripping himself of his own clothes.

  “I’m sure there is,” the steward said, picking up the abandoned clothes. “I can bring someone to you—”

  “No,” Tyomar said. “I will come and find them as soon as I’m ready to talk to them.

  The steward smiled, his eye sparkling. “Of course, Master.”

  When Oshali woke in his chambers, she was delighted with the soft, cozy bedding, and of course, Tyomar.

  He indulged her in every way he saw fit, sometimes making her beg and plead, knowing the anticipation made her wet, and sometimes pinning her down and taking her.

  Oshali relished in it all, stroking his skin, licking and kissing every part she could reach, and telling him how beautiful he was. Strangely, she had a fixation on his mouth, and when she sucked on his lip while he was pounding her into the bed, she came the hardest he had ever witnessed.

  His stewards were excellent, leaving food and water at the door of the chambers but never entering. They left fruit and tonics for Oshali as well as many of Tyomar’s favorite foods. Of course, with her urge to have sex, Oshali wasn’t interested in food and she outright refused it, choosing to swallow his cock or otherwise distract him. Tyomar had to wait until she was exhausted, and almost falling asleep before she would eat without any resistance.

  Days passed. Tyomar wasn’t able to tell how long he’d been in his chambers for, But he had no interest in anything happening outside of his bed. Oshali was a complete distraction, and all he cared about was ensuring she was sated and looked after. He had never tended to an omega in her heat before, so he was following his instincts, and his stewards also helped with anything he needed to know. He wanted there to be no interference in the possibility of her conceiving.

  At one point the thought occurred to him that she must have had her heat before at the Mheyu sanctum, but how had she been looked after then? Stirrings of dark jealousy appeared in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed them away. It didn’t matter what she used to do with the Mheyu, that wasn’t her home.

  As time wore on, she began to sleep more, and Tyomar kept a close eye on her. It was then that his stewards knocked on his door to speak to him. He only had three stewards and a few dozen servants, much less than his brothers, and it was on the small side for the size of his lair. But Tyomar wasn’t as interested in “collecting people” the way some of his brothers did. As long as the lair could be maintained to fulfill his needs, he was satisfied.

  “We’ve only disturbed you to ask if you have bonded with her yet?” the older steward asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I think it will be unlikely she will conceive unless you are bonded, master,” said the second steward.

  Tyomar’s face dropped. “I didn’t realize that.”

  “It’s not guaranteed,” the third steward said. “However, it would be more likely. Once you bond with her, continue the rest of her heat as you have been.”

  “But her heat is fading,” Tyomar explained.

  “It can still happen,” the steward said. “It may be harder, but she can still conceive. You have to make the bite.”

  “But what about Ryndross?”

  “It is possible to start the process to conceive, not go the whole way.”

  Tyomar nodded. “All right. Thank you.”

  When he returned Oshali, she was awake and looking at him from the middle of the blankets, her eyes sleepy and her face half obscured.” Where am I?”

  “You are in my lair, back on the mountain range.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? This is where you belong.” Tyomar sat down next to her. “What do you remember?”

  “The queen.” She glanced over the bed. “You… tended to me in my heat.”

  “I did.”

  Oshali nodded, twisting the sheets in her fingers. “I’m glad it was you.”

  Tyomar frowned. “Who else would it be?” he asked sharply.

  “The queen was going to find someone…”

  Tyomar growled. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore. She cannot get to you here.”

  Oshali was silent for a moment. “I also remember you leaving me in the middle of the night.”

  “Oshali,” Tyomar said sternly. “I had to do that.”

  “Why?”

  “I will tell you once you have recovered from your heat.”

  She pushed herself up from the blankets to sit upright. Her hair was a tangled, seed-soaked mess, her expression drowsy, her eyes unfocused, but damn she looked so beautiful. “Tell me now,” she said quietly.

  Tyomar gently pulled her onto his lap. “I suspected that you could be my mate, and I had to see if it was true.”

  Oshali frowned. “Of course I’m not.”

  “You are, little cloak,” Tyomar said firmly.

  “How can I be? I am not a dragorai female.”

  “Do you not feel this?” Tyomar tightened his arms around her, making a cocoon and gently touching his forehead to hers as he squeezed her. “Every time we are together it feels like we belong. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.”

  Oshali was silent for a long moment, her eyes closed. “This does feel more like home than anything else,” she admitted.

  “It is,” Tyomar said.

  “But that’s not enough,” Oshali said, opening her eyes. She took a breath. “The queen has deluded herself that as long as she feels at home she doesn’t need to address the destruction and devastation her war is causing her people. She goes to extra lengths to pretend that the Dominion is fine, and has all this pointless extravagance and traditions that she upholds, pining for a time long ago when her Dominion was thriving and she was happy. She’s not willing to look at how life really is. She is bitter and sad and lonely….”

  “I don’t see how that is relevant to us,” Tyomar growled.

  Oshali met his gaze. “You promised me that you would always protect me, and even though I didn’t want that at the time, I took you at your word and thought it meant you would always be there. I told you that I knew you’d abandoned me and that I was afraid of that—which is why I couldn’t give everything to you. You insisted it would never happen, but you left in the middle of the night without telling me you were going. That is not about trust, Tyomar. I trust you needed to go for whatever reason, but what about respect and loyalty? What about letting me know that I had to continue on alone until you returned?” Oshali shook her head. “Even if I am your mate, which I’m not, why would you not give me that courtesy?”

  Oshali sighed, and the tightness that had been growing in Tyomar's chest almost prevented him from being able to breathe.

  “I would love to look at our time together and how I have f
elt for you for years. But the reality of us is that you do not respect who I am or what I need or my capabilities as a Mheyu and a caster. You belittle my choices, opinions, and the knowledge of the Mheyu guardians because you do not respect me. I can never have the same experiences or abilities as you. I am a lesser-mortal. And that is how you treat me.”

  “That is not true!”

  “I understand you might feel something for me,” Oshali continued, speaking over him. “But it will never be what you will feel for your real mate. And you will both understand each other better than we do.” She lowered her head. “You didn’t even tell me the truth about how you ‘found’ me as a baby.”

  Tyomar growled, his heart pounding frantically at her somber expression and the solemn gravity in her voice. She didn’t sound like his Oshali. She didn’t sound like the enthusiastic, fiery, playful omega he had gotten to know all these years. Yes, there were still things she needed to know, but could him leaving and her experience with the queen have been so traumatizing that she couldn’t recognize what he was saying?

  "Oshali,” he said. “There is nothing more important to me than you. This is not about misunderstandings or lack of respect or a disappointing reality of who we are when we’re not standing on that ledge; you being a novice and me being an Anointed One. This is much bigger than that." He stroked his fingers into her hair and down her scalp. "But you are still experiencing the effects of your heat, and you’re exhausted from what you experienced and the physicality of your travels. We will talk about this when you have fully recovered. Things might seem disorientating or discouraging right now, but I promise you I will explain everything."

  Oshali didn't respond, her eyes remaining downward as he stroked his fingers through her hair, dragging his fingertips down her scalp. She sighed, relaxing her whole body onto him and he lifted her up and lay her back down the bed, glad to have her back in his arms. Every moment he was apart from her was like daggers scoring his skin. Yes, he’d made a promise to her that he would always be there, and then he left. He didn’t blame her for being angry, but he refused to allow her to push him away.