25. Fennik
Chapter 25
Fennik
T he air is frigid, and I pull Gunnar’s slumped form closer as Randi flies with dizzying speed through the clouds. I have no idea where we are, the land beneath us a blur between gauzy patches of puffy white.
It’s breathtaking to feel her scales beneath me, to learn the texture of her rippled spikes, and to see the steam rising from her puffing breaths. But Gunnar’s heavy weight against my chest and the memory of the healing bite mark on Randi’s shoulder blots out the wonder of riding her dragon form.
I force myself to concentrate despite the cold, listing what I know.
The king ordered an attack.
I was hit by a dart protecting Randi.
She was bitten. The mark isn’t from a wolf. It’s the puncture wound of a snake.
Someone brought us to the serpents’ territory and treated us.
The answer is clear, though I fight it. Randi has found her third mate. The truth is dizzying, making my heart pound and my vision blur. As she flies, I puzzle it over, trying to untangle fate’s complicated web. The gods chose Gunnar to bring her laughter, maybe even hope. What would an enemy bring?
Mating the enemy ends two ways.
Randi dives, and my stomach swoops at the velocity of the drop.
Peace or death. We hover on the knife’s edge between them.
My hand tightens around her spike, the other curling around Gunnar’s shoulder. He whimpers in pain, and my wolf purrs as I whisper in his ear, “Hang on a little longer, pup. Hang on.”
Randi lands on a wide deck outside her personal rooms, where Vandera is already waiting. Her tail curls around me, lifting the two of us and setting us down gently. Vandera shoots off questions rapidly, but I stand in shock as Randi leaps from the deck and takes flight.
A surge of desperation fills me, but I force myself to turn away and bring Gunnar inside, placing him gently on her bed. Vandera hovers over him as soon as I step back. Her hands rake down his body, and silent words twist her lips. I watch, frozen in helplessness for long minutes, until she jumps back and her eyes open.
“He’s been treated with healing magic. It’s potent but like nothing I’ve ever encountered. Who did this?”
Words don’t come. I stare at my mangled pup, my chest so tight I can barely breathe.
Randi’s flat voice calls from behind us. “He was bit fighting off ferals in the woods, and at some point, he escaped a snare, but his leg was caught in it.” She comes in from the landing and turns over a large bag of crystals, books, and jars, spilling them onto the bed. She riffles through them as she speaks. “There was another serpent with the woman the king brought to the Council. I believe he is the one who took us to their territory and treated us.”
Vandera’s eyes widen and drop to the mark on her shoulder. The bite is blaringly loud. The witch’s lips part, but no sound comes out.
“I’ll explain what I know. After.” Randi tosses Vandera a few jars. “Make a drawing salve and lace it with a healing spell. I’ll make a protection circle.”
The two women work quickly. Vandera scurries off and returns with bowls. She mixes a concoction on the bed, checks over Gunnar’s wounds, unwraps his bandages, and applies the thick salve. Randi hurries aroundthe room, muttering as she places crystals in each corner.
I crawl closer to Gunnar, lying on my side as I run my fingers through his soft fur. My body wants to fight, to protect us from the unseen threats looming outside this room. That’s not what we need right now, and I feel useless.
“He’ll be all right?” I choke out the question, every one of my nerves frayed.
Randi sits on her knees behind me, her fingers weaving with mine. Her face is streaked with tears, her voice almost a whisper. “He has to be.”
Vandera works on his leg next, and our pup whimpers. When she’s finally finished, she sits back on her heels, her face drained of color from the strain. “The leg was still a mess, but whoever did his initial healing has done most of the work. He needs rest. I’ll make a sleeping potion, but what I need is in my workshop.”
“Thank you, Vandi.” Randi gets up and hugs Vandera on her way out. The two part with tear-streaked cheeks. When Vandera has left, Randi sighs and leans over me to gently kiss Gunnar’s snout, whispering something I don’t catch. She holds out a hand for me. “Let’s shower, then we can talk to the others.”
I follow her blindly into the bathroom, stripping in a daze and joining her under the spray. The water stings in harsh pellets against the cold that’s settled in my limbs until I eventually thaw. I reach for Randi, taking the soapy sponge from her hands.
“Little dove, talk to me.”
I wash her bruised body in small soothing circles, cataloging each healing wound. Her side is purple and yellow but mostly healed. The water is diluted with the sharp tang of her blood, but it’s old. When I get to the mark on her shoulder, she flinches.
I tug her chin. “Tell me. Whatever it is, we can fight it together.”
Her throat bobs, and tears pool in her eyes. She looks like a sad little mouse, her white hair matted to her head and her eyes more red than gold.
She takes a shuddering breath. “Gunnar and I got us out, but it was a close call. I shifted, and we fled, but they got me. Whatever they gave me was powerful enough to put my dragon to sleep. We crashed.” She looks away, but I pinch her chin, tugging her gaze back to me.
“You’re not to blame. You went in good faith.”
“But you wanted to leave. Gunnar too. I was arrogant and?—”
“No,” I say, voice low. “We’re alive because of you. In battle, it never goes to plan. Now tell me.”
She nods as the tears continue to fall. “When I woke, I was alone. I searched for you and ended up in a trap. That’s when the serpent found me. My dragon tried to protect me, but she was too weak. I managed to escape, but he chased me down. The rune appeared. He bit me, then let me go. I found the two of you on the riverbank and got us across. That’s the last I remember until you woke me.”
I rub my thumb back and forth along her cheek. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Her nostrils flare. At the same time, her eyes flash blue for the briefest moment—so quickly I can’t even be sure I saw it.
“It’s all right, baby girl.” My purr sounds, and I tuck her into my chest, rubbing my hand in soothing circles down her back. “It’s all right. We’re together. We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Fennik.” My name on her lips is stripped down to its essence. It’s a plea that means, Alpha, please .
My wolf charges to the surface, desperate and possessive. The shower fills with the scent of her need and the tangy bite of citrus. The citrus is new, getting stronger every day. My pheromones answer, my alpha’s dominance rising to stake my claim.
She’s hurting, and she needs to reestablish the connection between us, for me to remind her who I am to her. I need it too. My human instincts are replaced by my wolf’s need to fill my mate and mark her with my scent. It feels necessary to prove to her that this won’t change us. She’s mine , made for me down to her soul, and nothing will stop me from giving her what she needs.
My hand clutches her throat, and I devour her mouth. The kiss is an extension of my possession, hungry and raw. I suck her tongue and claim her mouth until she’s gasping for air.
“Yes, please.” Her back hits the shower wall, her hands greedily grabbing for my cock.
I flip her around, pinning her with my weight. Her hands splay against the tile, her shoulders dropping some of the tension she carries.
“I know exactly what you need, little dove. You crave my cock. You need me to remind you who you belong to,” I growl.
She gasps as I nip her neck. “Prove we’re real. Make me remember.”
“No matter what happened in those woods, you’re mine,” I promise.
My cock nudges against the seam of her ass, my hand twisting around her front to cup her mound. I ease the tip of my finger through her slick, spreading her and circling her clit. She’s dripping, making needy sounds that rip my remaining control to shreds.
My growl rumbles against her neck, and she shivers as I grind the heel of my hand against her clit. I push her legs farther apart with my knee, nudging my cock through her slick in a smooth back and forth that teases her lips and drenches my cock.
“I need you,” she demands breathlessly.
I give her what she craves, surging home with a deep thrust. She bucks against me, and I slap her ass—hard. Randi melts for me. “That’s it, baby girl, take my cock.”
“Harder. Please. I want to feel you everywhere,” she begs.
“You need to feel how I stuff you full?” I nip along the column of her neck, my wolf surging to share my skin.
Her answering moan goes straight to my balls. I steady her with a firm grip on her hips, pounding into her in smooth thrusts. It’s a ruthless claiming that makes her legs tremble and those sweet, needy whimpers spill from her lips.
“You’re gonna take my knot, aren’t you, baby girl? Tell me. Let me hear how much you want your alpha’s cock.”
“Yes, fuck,” Randi moans.
“Say it,” I grit the words through clenched teeth.
“I want you to fuck me hard and fill me with your knot.”
“Who, baby girl?”
“Alpha,” she murmurs. “I want my alpha’s knot.”
“That’s my good girl. Your pussy is so sweet, squeezing me so tight.” I swat her ass, then grab her cheeks and watch with satisfaction as my slick shaft gets swallowed by her tight heat.
Even over the pounding of the shower, the wet slapping sounds of the two of us fill the air. Her back arches. I smatter open-mouthed kisses along her spine before I collar her neck and bring her flush against me. My other hand wraps around her, and I strum her clit until her pussy spasms around me in a grip so tight it strangles my cock.
“That’s it. Give it all to me. Come for your alpha,” I groan.
Her orgasm drenches my knot, squeezing me so fucking tightly.
“Now you’re going to take this knot for your alpha like a good little omega. Let me fill you with my cum and mark you as mine.”
She loses it at my words, turning into a desperate, mewling, beautiful mess. I tease her with my knot, loving the way I can feel her stretch around me each time I push in a little more. Her body welcomes me home, sucking me in and clamping down on my bulging knot. It expands, locking into place and stretching her until she’s so full of me she’s shaking.
“Alpha,” she begs.
I grind into her, my knot slipping in a little farther, teasing the stretch.
Her sweet mouth cries, “Please,” over and over. Seeing her desperate for my cum sets off my release, and I flood her plugged pussy. I hold her throat in a possessive grip and pinch her clit until she wails. When the last of the orgasm runs through her, she twists her face up to me. It’s a kiss of surrender, filled with sweet moans. The kiss is endless, more comfort than anything as we ride out my knot.
The moment it goes down and I slip from her warm heat, her moans turn into body-racking sobs.
“Oh, little dove, I’ve got you,” I assure her, folding her to me and lifting her into my arms. She is a strong warrior. A brave dragon. But her heart is so tender and in need of so much care. “It’s gonna be all right.”
I hold her until we’re both waterlogged and her sobs turn to hiccups.
She’s quiet while I towel her off, carry her into the bedroom, and set her on the bed. I dress quickly before tugging one of my shirts over her head. The blanket from the foot of the bed is next, and I wrap her up snugly before picking her up again.
The more she allows me to take care of her, the sturdier and more in control I feel. The Council has pitted itself against us, but they can’t touch us here. The wards are strong. My mates are strong. We survived.
With her arms wrapped around my neck and her head resting under my chin, I carry her toward the den.
“Thank you, Alpha,” she says softly, planting a kiss under my jaw and rubbing her cheek against me.
“There is nothing to thank me for, baby girl. I love it when you let me take care of you and give you what you need.” My wolf settles with her in my arms despite the danger. A small burst of tart citrus curls in the air when I rub my cheek against her hair. I suck in her scent, letting the rightness of it give me strength.
Vandera and her mates wait for us by the fire, but I don’t let my dragon from my arms, and to my surprise, Randi snuggles into my lap on the couch.
Brooks hands us each a glass of bourbon, his jaw tense and his eyes flinty.
“The Alpha King is dead.”