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A Lair So Sinful Page 2
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“Stop,” I’mya said, fear blooming in her chest. “Stop doing that!”
But the steward did not cease.
Tiny bursts of intense heat flared along I’mya’s jaw, burrowing deep into her skin, then shooting up her face in jagged, sharp bursts. I’mya took a breath to scream, but before she could, magic had taken hold of the entire lower half of her face.
The scream came out as a harsh hum, vibrating along her lips.
Dayatha’s muttering stopped and she released I’mya’s jaw, staring at her for a long moment, tilting her head. “I’m just going to examine you to ensure you are in good health. I do not want you worrying the other girls. Whatever problem you are having, this incantation will help identify it.”
I’mya stumbled back, clawing at her jaw as the magic burrowed deep until it reached the bone.
“Calm down,” Dayatha said, stepping forward and holding up a hand. “It will be more aggressive if you fight it.”
I’mya barely heard her. This kind of magic was so sophisticated that it could burn her from the inside out and allow someone control over her body once it was inside her. This was an attack! All she’d done was ask a simple question.
She fought to open her mouth, but her jaw remained locked together, her screams remained stuck in her throat.
“You need to calm down,” Dayatha repeated, annoyance bleeding into her expression. “Just relax.”
I’mya backed away from her and ran toward the opening. She needed to find someone who would help her. Maybe one of the girls knew magic or could understand what had happened to her. But when she followed where they had exited, she found herself in another corridor, smaller this time… and it was empty. She turned right and followed the path, her breathing heavy as her panic increased.
She began to run when she heard Dayatha calling behind her. Maybe if she escaped the mountain, the magic would wear off. In the back of her mind, she knew that wasn’t possible, but panic had fully descended on her about the situation she’d awoken to, and if she escaped, that would solve one problem.
She kept running, following the corridor as it widened, the air becoming thicker and warmer.
As she ran, her heated skin prickled against the magic-dense air, as though it was making a halfhearted attempt to stop her, but within it, there was also a distinctive, warm, and earthy scent. Strangely, it was comforting. I’mya began to calm and slowed to a quick walk. She had to think clearly if she was going to get out of this place—running wildly around this “lair” was not going to help.
I’mya turned a corner to see a large, round sapphire stone embedded into the wall of the corridor. The sight of it sparked recognition. She knew where she was! Relief bounded through her. If she recognized this place, surely she could find a way to remember how to get out. Heading down the corridor, she turned left, then right, then right again, but stopped abruptly when she arrived at another cavern. This one had a large opening on one wall. She stepped to the edge of the expanse and stared in wonder.
Spread before her was a vast cluster of mountains, as far as she could see, and she immediately knew where she was.
The Forbidden Mountains.
Dread clutched her chest. She could be killed for being here.
Before she had a chance to gather her thoughts, the cavern shook, and she stumbled forward. Screaming into her throat, she grabbed the side of the opening, digging her fingers in to save herself from certain death.
As she balanced herself on the inside of the opening, something dark shot out from above and flew over the range.
I’mya gasped, clinging harder to the edge of the gap in the mountain, shocked at what she was seeing.
An enormous creature soared, its wings spread wide as it angled to the left. Pure black with a slight golden sheen brushing along its scales, the bright blue sky outlined its form—a thick body with four legs and spikes protruding down its neck, and a long, spiked tail that whipped from side to side behind it.
A dragon.
Of course. This creature was what made the Forbidden Mountains forbidden. This was where they roamed.
I’mya didn’t realize she wasn’t breathing until the dragon rounded in the air and headed straight back toward the mountain. Transfixed, she couldn’t move. Gripping the side of the opening so hard, she didn’t feel her fingernails snap; all she could focus on was the creature’s mouth, jagged and wide as it opened.
This creature shouldn’t exist; dragons were known to be ferocious beings, wild and destructive. They were leftover relics from a time before anything worth protecting existed. But that thinking made no difference to their existence, or the one heading toward her right now.
When the dragon dipped lower, heading directly for her opening rather than returning to where ever it had come from above, fear stiffened I’mya’s body, making her grip even harder.
Could the creature see her? Was he aiming for her purposefully?
The dragon roared and a puff of fire curled out from its mouth, shooting directly toward the opening. Doubt gone, she knew it was coming toward her.
I’mya let go and backed into the cavern space behind her, but the dragon arrived too quickly for her to run.
He landed, his claws digging into the edge and rocking the entire section with a thunderous jolt, causing I’mya to stagger and drop to her knees.
She tried to stand, to get away, but the enormous creature scrambled to cling on to the edge of the mountainside as it roared at I’mya. The sound deafened her, vibrating through her body as it shook every fiber of her being and the ground she fell upon once again.
When she looked up, the horrifying creature was pulling itself into the cavern, its large, yellow eyes rolling in its sockets as it sought her out. I’mya screamed as its mouth opened, and another flare of fire erupted directly at her.
Her scream tore out of her throat as the heat engulfed her. She didn’t know when her hands shot out or when instinct took over. Calling upon the magic in the air to come to her aid, there was no thought or consideration to the words she uttered inside her—they dropped into her mind out of nowhere. Her only concern was to sound them out as clearly as possible with her mouth closed. The magic responded, silky and fluid as it created a protective shield around her.
The intense heat immediately ceased as the fire parted around the shield, but all of I’mya’s energy drained from her body in one fell swoop. She crumpled to the ground as darkness pressed in, threatening to draw her into a dizzying whirlwind of despair.
Suddenly, the fire stopped; everything was quiet.
I’mya inched her head up to see if the dragon had gone, but instead a figure loomed over her, blocking her view.
It spoke, and a deep, rich voice vibrated through the entire area, penetrating her body and sending a rush along her limbs, but its words were not clear.
I’mya lifted her head, blinking at it.
A man loomed over her. He had wide, muscled shoulders, toned arms and a broad chest with a torso that tapered down to a slimmer waist; his legs just as thick as his arms. In truth, he was a perfectly formed man—except he was enormous.
Dark, tousled hair fell to the top of his ears, and a low-cut dark beard spread over the lower half of his chiseled face. Long lashes framed the dark fury in his eyes, directed at her as he stepped forward.
I’mya panicked, but she couldn’t move. She was too weak to do anything. Thankfully, the dragon was no longer attacking, but she heard the whip of its wings beating beyond the opening of the cavern. She wasn’t exactly out of harm’s way, especially when she didn’t know this man’s intentions. This mountain lair, or whatever the grey-cloaked woman called it, was a dangerous place to be.
She had to get out.
The giant man lunged forward, and I’mya squeaked as his hand closed around her neck. He yanked her upward until she was on her feet, then he leaned in, his dark eyes peering at her face, and her naked body. “’et khadon yo ma si kon’aya.” The words boomed out of him and vibrated
against her chest, even though I’mya was certain he wasn’t shouting. She tried to shake her head, eager to explain she was here by mistake, but it was impossible to swallow let alone speak.
“ko’lat ’et numakh tmo’ shaf bok ma si tumezni?”
Surely he wasn’t expecting her to respond? Not with his fist so tightly wrapped around her neck? I’mya exhaled in annoyance, her nostrils flaring.
The man’s head tilted, a brow inching down to a frown as he studied her again. I’mya hoped she didn’t look like a trespasser, or even worse, a criminal. This might be the only time that being naked could work in her favor, though it wasn’t as though she looked good. This place was too hot. Sweat slicked her skin and her hair had to be a ragged mess. Hopefully she looked so out of place that this giant would discard her so she could get as far away from the Forbidden Mountain as possible. “Kev,” he murmured, dragging his eyes down at her body again, lingering in places they shouldn’t. His eyes darkened. “si zmusho da dvan. ’Et lat tan itzutz de da tzo kon’aya.”
I’mya had no idea what he was saying, but the bass of his tone and the look in his eyes ignited a tingle in the pit of her stomach and the most delicate shiver skipped up her spine. The man’s scent was equally provocative. Rich, decadent tones of charred darkness emanated from him, as though he had bathed in the flame and smoke of a thousand midnights. It was potent and intoxicating and affected her just as powerfully as his voice. Within moments, her nipples hardened, and the tingle in her stomach developed into an ache between her legs.
An even darker look entered the man’s gaze as his nostrils flared.
I’mya jerked as a finger trailed up her stomach to the underside of her breast. She struggled against the man’s hold, but it made no difference—it were as if she wasn’t moving at all. His finger traced over her breast until it reached her stiff peak and then he pinched it. Hard.
I’mya twitched as the sharp pain and pleasure snapped through her body. She glared at him, her anger rising at the smirk on his face, but she was distracted by the now slow and circular movements of his fingers on her nipple.
Pleasure zinged through her. He tilted his head up and his eyes snapped to her mouth. “’et kla tzo koshpek taf’ak ren kvitra’ak tmo’ gi tmokhi. as kvek da itmoratz.” As his words resounded in the closed cavernous space, the syllables twisted and morphed into words I’mya could understand. “You have an incomplete incantation trapped in your jaw. That must be painful.”
I’mya blinked in surprise. An incantation was trapped in her face? It must have been the magic Dayatha used on her.
The man’s eyes flicked up to hers. “si kme yik a.” The echo resounded back the words. “I can remove it.”
I’mya stilled, her eyes wide as she tried to nod. If he could remove the magic, then she’d be able to explain the misunderstanding, but it was becoming difficult to concentrate on so many things at the same time. Her body felt disjointed, as though it no longer belonged to her—pain laced with pleasure. The sensation overload was unbearable—lethargy from the use of magic, intoxicating aroma from the giant man’s scent, and the pressure around her neck keeping her upright and steady. She exhaled deeply, seeking comfort from his scent to alleviate the pain before she realized what she was doing.
The pressure around her neck immediately eased, and she drew in a sharp breath through her nose as she gripped his thick forearm to help steady her weak and unsteady legs.
He spoke again. “But I’m not sure if I want to” were the words that echoed back to her.
I’mya looked up at him, confused. His face was close, still examining her with a strange look in his eyes. Why wouldn’t he remove it if he could?
His mouth spread into a slight smile as he tapped her jaw, sending shock waves of pain through her whole face.
I’mya yelped in surprised and then growled in anger, the roughness of the sound tearing into her throat.
The man tapped her face again, harder this time, and the pain ricocheted to the extremities of her head, rippling out to her earlobes, then down her neck.
“Stop!” I’mya gasped, and then froze, realizing the magic had moved from her mouth and he was controlling it through her body. It simmered around her nose, making her eyes water. She blinked rapidly as her eyes stung and her eyesight blurred. Was he going to make her blind?
On the third hard tap, the magic shunted up her head toward her brain, and I’mya truly began to panic. If magic could lock her jaw shut and blind her, what would it do to her mind?
The man’s chuckle was hearty and deep, and it infuriated her. He was simply amusing himself. He didn’t care that she was in pain or that he could permanently blind her!
Gritting her teeth, I’mya forced strength into her arm and swung, punching him in his perfectly, chiseled face. It was supposed to be a slap, but something else—some sense of familiarity with the movement—took over.
It was a pathetic attack—the man’s head barely moved, but it had the desired effect. His laughter ceased immediately, and the flash of anger in his face satisfied I’mya, but only for a moment.
A mutter from his lips charged the magic in the air around them. It swept around her, lifting her into the air, and throwing her backward until she slammed against the wall behind her. The magic in her face ricocheted around her head, but then pockets of pain surfaced throughout her body. I’mya gasped, trying to figure out what was causing it, but as her eyes landed on the giant man glaring at her, she knew. He had pinned her to the wall and was expanding the incantation over her whole body.
“You will beg for my forgiveness,” he snarled.
I’mya’s mouth tightened, fury bounding through her as she forced out words that set her sore throat alight. “Release me. I do not belong here.”
“Beg,” he demanded, his jaw hard. “Now!”
I’mya drew in a breath, clarity momentarily dulling the pain in her body. This man was a monster. An arrogant, vicious monster. He was going to kill her regardless of what she did or did not say. She held his eye, relishing the rage growing on his face. “Never.”
The incantation in her body instantly increased in intensity, spreading like fire through her insides.
I’mya screamed, yelled her anger and pain at him as she tried to wriggle away from the wall. Screaming further inflamed her throat, but she didn’t care. The pain was unbearable and would probably kill her, and if she was going to die, she was going to do it screaming obscenities at this bastard.
The magic overwhelmed her body, blinding her and locking her mouth shut again while pinning her to the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed heavy, trying to stay conscious against the tidal waves of agony crashing down on her from every angle. It was an impossible battle.
Just as she was about to tip into the relief of unconsciousness, a pleasurable twinge pulled her back. I’mya focused on it, trying to take her mind off everything else. The man was close again—his heat and his scent surrounded her.
The pleasure came from a rough brush between her legs. It came again, firmer and more persistent, building a rhythm.
I’mya opened her eyes to see the man leaning over her as his fingers gently explored her folds. “Such a sweet scent right here,” he murmured as he leaned closer, breathing her in. “I don’t recall having it before. Are you new or did my dragon somehow bring you here?”
I’mya didn’t attempt a response. He was clearly a madman. Besides, pain and pleasure fought for dominance within her and nothing could hold her concentration. A corner of his mouth curved up as he watched her, low words rumbling from his chest. “Either way, you are mine now. To do with as I please.”
I’mya tried to snarl at him, but he did something that shocked her into stillness. Sliding his large hand to the back of her neck, he lowered his head to scent her, running his nose from her collarbone, along her neck, stopping just behind her ear.
The intimacy of such a personal action sent a powerful shudder through I’mya, stimulating the tingle in her s
tomach and between her legs. A moan escaped from the back of her throat and she arched into him, threading her arms around his neck. The man stilled, his expression a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and suspicion—as if he’d never seen a female before and was intent on examining her every move in case she attacked. Something about that amused I’mya.
She chuckled, pulling herself closer to him, until her back lifted from the wall and she hovered in the air. He let her, watching her closely until she pressed herself against him. An appreciative rumble tumbled from his chest and vibrated between them. I’mya found that pleasurable. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
As soon as their lips touched, fresh, thick magic rushed into her, embedding into every fiber of her body, chasing away the incantation. This new magic was like air, filling up every particle, breathing into her a potent awareness that connected her with… everything. She could feel the entire mountain and every individual moving within it. She could feel the dragon flying close to the mountain, its mood content. Amazingly, the man she clung to was a blinding magic force who distracted her, but as the magic seeped into her mind, memories appeared in her mind’s eye.
A tall, dark tower loomed over a destroyed city. Among the wreckage, a beautiful castle for a king.
A handsome man with thick, black curls lecturing her in a potions room, his brow raising when she snorted at his words.
“I’mya!” A young girl called to her, beckoning her to play.
“—the magic won’t be stable if you mispronounce it,” the man with black curls insisted. “Half of the problem is—”
A deep growl echoed in her ears as she was drawn up into the air, a hot mouth exploring hers with a savage intensity.
I’mya slid her arms around his broad shoulders and whimpered into his mouth as he drew her close, pulling her against his chest and reaching down to wrap her legs around his torso. He squeezed her bottom, pressed her tightly against him as the magic charged through her body, heightening the glorious feel of him. His scent strengthened and her desire flew out of control.