SAKALA
Pain flashed white-hot at the back of my neck, instincts forcing my body still even though I wanted nothing more than to thrash and throw him off. Fane went limp over me, likely reveling in the taste of my blood. I couldn’t do anything with his fangs embedded in my neck—or could I?
I was dreaming. This was a nightmare. My body was reacting to Fane pinning me down, pheromones coating both of us so heavily it was impossible to tell where his ended and mine began.
Fuck fuck fuck.
The burn was awful, but my body betrayed me as a moan escaped my throat.
Let out a distress call. They will separate you. End this nonsense.
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The sensations running through my body intrigued me enough that my voice stuck in my throat. I didn’t know if I could even summon a distress call. I wasn’t in any distress.
And wasn’t that just a bitch?
Hot blood soaked down my shoulders and back. Fane’s length pushed against my bottom, his hips digging into mine. If I didn’t yield, I knew what would happen. and if I let it happen, I was saying yes. I was consenting to being his mate. Rocking side to side, I freed my left arm, which was still fully functional. I rammed my elbow as hard as I could into his side, and he made a satisfying yelp as his fangs dislodged from my neck and drew back from me.
Not wasting a second, I flipped onto my back and struck out with the claws on both arms and legs, digging into the soft flesh of his belly and ripping like a possessed creature.
He roared at me but went down, his hands busy trying to hold his intestines in as he rolled on his side and curled into a ball.
I hissed at him. “Yield.”
Surely, this would be the moment the guards and mated males would step in and end our fight. Fane’s life was officially in danger; surely ,they wouldn’t let me kill them, would they?
Yet even as I stared down at him, the wounds on his stomach were already knitting closed. The blood faded along his abdomen, and his eyes closed in relief as the pain ebbed.
Rage flooded my veins. He was using my blood to heal himself. My instincts took over in the next moment, my body and mind a confused cacophony of instincts and feral anger. My fangs flashed as I dove into his neck, intending to rip his throat open and end this once and for all.
Elation soared through my body as my fangs bit into his skin, hot, delicious blood filling my mouth. Oh, how good it tasted, how sweet …
My own aches and pains faded the more I drank, but two bite wounds on the back of my neck remained angry and open. I drank more. The goal wasn’t to kill him, but to drain him of every drop until not a scratch remained on me. That would show him!
Fane went absolutely still under me, but didn’t yield or call out. That was strange. If he was surrendering, why didn’t he say so?
Maybe he wasn’t yielding.
Ridiculous. Of course he was! Why else would he willingly let me drink and drink and drink—
A kick to my solar plexus shocked me out of my thoughts and sent me flying backwards. My fangs tore his throat as they ripped free, but he was already healing even as I glanced over at him.
We’d given each other our blood, so now we’d both heal from whatever injury we inflicted on the other. A stalemate! Had that been Fane’s plan this whole time?
I stood strong, his blood pumping through my veins. He stood across from me, faint pink lines on his stomach and throat the only proof I’d injured him at all.
“Give up yet?” he taunted, an odd fervor in his eyes.
“Eat glass,” I growled back, and pounced.
Only to meet a wall of muscle and flesh.
“We have paused the Draken Games for the safety of the combatants,” a deep, male voice grunted. Large hands came down and pinned my arms to my sides, and more grabbed my wings and twisted lightly. I crumpled in pain, helpless, as they trussed me up and heaved me over a guard’s shoulder like a sack of wheat.
Next to me, Fane was being tended to by a healer. Guards weren’t rushing him or tying him up.
“What are you doing? We didn’t finish! LET HER GO!”
Fane’s horrified voice echoed and reverberated in my chest, a dull ache spreading through my body that had nothing to do with any physical injury. I couldn’t quite explain it, but my instincts roared at me to finish what we started, and not to go quietly.
I ignored the throbbing white-hot pain in my wings as I thrashed against my bonds, knowing that I had to get to Fane at all costs. The male holding me swore, but the others had already bounded ahead to Fane, who was ripping into the other guards to get to me.
Something warm bloomed in my heart at the realization, soothing away the dull aches.
“End this now,” said a strong voice.
Huh, sounds like the king, I thought dully before a blow to my head knocked me unconscious.
* * *
I woke up confused and in the largest bed I’d ever seen. The surrounding sheets were much nicer than the rough furs I shared with my sister at home. Those were in the corner and on the floor. I snuggled deeper into the warmth, wanting to drift off to sleep again.
Two identical prongs of agony shot through my neck as I moved, jolting me wide awake. In the next moment, I remembered everything, with clarity provided by a clean mind not overcome by bloodlust or … regular lust.
Oh, no. Oh no.
I swung my legs over the bed, trying to move as quickly as I could without passing out from the pain. Why had no one healed me? Why hadn’t the marks healed over from the remnants of Fane’s blood in my veins?
My mother was absent frequently, but she had never neglected my education. From an early age, she’d schooled me on mating customs and rituals, not wanting a daughter of hers to be in danger or taken advantage of. The answer to my dilemma was simple and equally horrifying: the only thing that can heal a draken’s mating marks was the draken who made them. Because that’s what they were. That’s what we had done.
Mated.
Or tried to.
We’d been interrupted in completing the bond. I couldn’t decide if that was a terrible thing or a wonderful thing. My thoughts spiraled chaotically, my body a mix of adrenaline, hormones, and fatigue. Fane’s marks had healed, but mine hadn’t. It was just another one of those stupid mating things that left the female out in the cold. They likely wouldn’t get better until we completed the mating bond.
Nausea rose in my stomach.
Fane. I needed Fane.
I tried to stand, and crumpled to the ground just as someone knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I grunted from the floor, trying to force my pained muscles to obey commands from my brain. A young female entered, her white scales dotted with turquoise and red, her wings almost appearing purple where both colors clashed together. It was beautiful and mesmerizing, and I stared. New scents tickled my nose, somehow telling me she was mated. Huh. I could never tell that before.
“Oh no! What are you doing out of bed?” She rushed over to me, lifting my elbow and helping me up.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathed out, picking myself up and sitting on the floor while I continued to stare at her coloring.
The female bent down, lightly pushing my head down to examine my bite marks. “And that isn’t,” she remarked wryly, reaching for a clean rag and a bowl of water on a nightstand I hadn’t noticed. “I’m Fessa. I’m going to look after you while we go through this process.”
I blinked wearily at her. “Fessa? You’re Fesso’s sister?”
She flashed me a dazzling grin. “Yes! You’re a friend of Fesso’s?”
Ha. As if. “No, I know his betrothed, though.”
Fessa patted my head. “Very good. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She tugged me over to a side room that had a large bathing pool sunk into the ground. It was one solid piece of dark rock, and the water was warm and bubbling from its center.
“Natural hot springs,” Fessa trilled, a bit of voice magick creeping into her tone in excitement. I immediately felt a small thrill of happiness thrum against my veins. I wished I had a talent for it like the other females. All I could do was fight and piss people off, it seemed.
My legs quivered as I tried to walk, and I ended up having to lean heavily on Fessa to make it work. I slipped my small skirt down my hips and unhooked the leather band around my breasts. I frowned as I noticed my weapons were all gone. As Fessa helped lower my body into the warm water, something else she’d said niggled at the back of my mind.
“Process? What process?”
Fessa gave me a strained smile. “Breaking your mate bond. I understand you both rushed into the games with little preparation, and it’s all a great misunderstanding. Do not worry, we will set everything right and you can go home once everything is back to normal.”
I blinked at her. “I don’t … I … Where’s Fane? I need to talk to him!”
Fessa fended off my protests by taking a giant pitcher of water and dumping it over my head. I coughed and sputtered, swallowing some bath water. Fessa took it all in stride.
“Not possible, I’m afraid. The point is to keep both of you separated. Otherwise, how will we fix this?”
The smell of flowers and eucalyptus blossomed in my nose. Fessa rubbed it energetically into my scalp, soaking my hair in the oils and ensuring even the tips got conditioned.
“Fix this … You mean my neck? That’s why I need to see Fane—”
Fessa dumped another pitcher of water over me, frothing up a lather with lavender soap and scrubbing me down. I was in too much shock and pain to stop her. My neck felt like it had two daggers protruding out of it. I had to resist the urge to put my hands on them.
Fessa removed a small little jar from her pocket and spread a bright blue paste on a long piece of cloth. “This should help.” She indicated I should bend my head down so she could put it on me. Hesitantly, I allowed it.
The moment the paste hit my wound, I knew instant, cool relief. Muscles I didn’t even know were clenched, relaxed and loosened as I leaned against the leather headrest in the tub.
Fessa laughed. “It works, then. That is good. Be sure to keep your head above water while I finish up.”
Fessa proceeded not only to finish washing me, but to give me a full body massage that had my eyes drifting shut as sweet relief and blood rushed back into my tired and sore muscles. Someone else entered the room: a mated male. Gaff. He was Fane’s personal guard. He carried something that clinked together as he walked, but it didn’t seem important compared to the sweet sensations flowing through my body.
“Thanksss,” I slurred at her, yawning and popping my jaw. Her hands rubbed soothing, sinful circles around my wing joints, and I melted into a pile of goo. It just felt so damn good.…
CLANG.
I jumped as something metallic and hard came around the top of my wing joints and snapped into place. My center of gravity shifted, and I fell over, confused and alarmed.
“What—”
I glanced over my shoulder. Panic flared as a giant metal clamp stared back at me. It kept the top of my wing joints hooked together and weighted down. With horror, I realized I couldn’t move my wings. I wouldn’t be able to fly. Gaff was backing away from me, and Fessa had a horrified look in her eyes.
That didn’t make me feel any better.
They had trapped me like a prisoner.
“Don’t panic—” Fessa started, but it was too late. I could handle fighting in the arena. I could even handle being beaten. I’d survived Fane showing up, and I’d gotten through what had almost been an accidental mate bond. Never once had I let out a distress call growing up, either: not when my mother was gone on her stints at the palace, or when I was overwhelmed with taking care of my little sister because my father was too stuck in his fantasy world to notice us.
But my mind snapped at having my wings bond.
The distress scream I let out erupted from my throat, long and loud.
Fessa gave her own sound of distress and dove for the door, her hands over her ears. I screamed and screamed, raw agony ripping apart my vocal chords as I could not control my panic or calm down. My breaths came too quickly, and there wasn’t enough air, but still I screamed.
My throat was going to rupture, and I didn’t care. Now that I finally unleashed it, I couldn’t stop.
Maybe I’d been calling out for help all this time.
Dimly, I realized another presence had joined me as they shoved my head into something warm and comforting. A strong, male scent surrounded me, and my screams cut off abruptly. This one was strong. He wasn’t my mate, but he would protect me. He was strong. He was of my mate’s bloodline, and would keep me safe. I didn’t have to scream anymore.
“Breathe,” ordered the voice.
I breathed.
The pain in my head and chest cleared, leaving only the dull agony left in my throat. I whimpered in pain, and strong arms held me. I nuzzled harder into the draken’s neck, then bit down hard.
The body tensed around me, ripping me away from him before I could drink. I whined pathetically. Hands grabbed me and pulled me away from the blood. I cried out again in distress as they separated me from my center and my calm.
“She bit me!” huffed the male voice, indignant.
Mate, get to your mate, my instincts screamed, but I couldn’t. The male and another held me down as I struggled, but neither of them was my mate. Just from his bloodline. Uncles? Maybe? I sniffed desperately, trying to understand.
Where was Fane?
My instincts roared again, fighting to be heard over the panic in my brain as it was putting two and two together, and getting five.
“She’s going to hurt herself if we don’t stop this,” said a voice above me.
“End this now,” ordered another voice.
I went for the eyes of every guard in my way, using their reluctance to hurt me against them as I bit and scraped, clawed and spit. The guards shrieked in pain as my saliva sizzled against their skin, but I didn’t have time to revel in any new abilities my inner draken was displaying.
Get to my mate. Free him. He would make my wings better.
“She is one female, how hard is it—”
I turned to rake my claws against anyone’s eyes, but the draken pinning me down was too fast. As his fist connected with my temple, my only thought was how I’d kill him for keeping me from my mate.