Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Ama
I wasn’t positive when, exactly, I had fallen asleep, but the lull of the carriage heading towards the capital finally allowed me to relax.
With that realization, unfortunately, came the awareness that I was still extremely needy.
Even in sleep, my body was uncomfortable.
Despite shifting, I could feel heat on my skin, creating a flush, and my breathing wasn’t as steady as normal.
So, I wasn’t exactly surprised when I fell into a rather… interesting dream.
My eyes fluttered open, and my breath caught as I met a gaze that was dark but pulsating with a neon green.
Almost immediately, my fingers curled into the bedding beneath me, the dark green sheets twisting as I resisted the urge to touch him.
I tried to force the words from my mouth to ask Drayven what he was doing, caging me to this unfamiliar bed.
Were we in his room? I had no idea what it looked like, so that wasn’t possible. Why?
I didn’t want to ask him. I didn’t want to ruin the fantasy that I should have hated but didn’t in the slightest. His massive frame almost completely covered my own, and he watched me with a predatorial intensity that had never been there before.
The walls that were normally up between us were completely gone, exposing the raw heat and need that seemed to thrive under the surface of the broody Reaper.
“Why are you in bed with me?” My voice sounded soft and almost foreign, the seductive lilt to it making his chest rumble in a response that vibrated through every part of me.
“Ama.” His voice was rough and raspy, causing my nipples to tighten against my…well, I assumed my shirt. But my eyes traveled down the black lace teddy I wore, the scrap of material somehow covering all the important bits but looking completely indecent.
I would have never chosen this for myself…I mean, I looked hot, but this was not my usual type of thing to wear. The way Drayven was looking at me, though? It made me consider if lace was going to become a new staple in my wardrobe.
No. Bad Ama. He’s an asshole who humiliated you. Thankfully, this was just a dream, so I could allow myself to indulge a bit.
“You didn’t answer,” I pointed out as his head dipped and his lips grazed mine briefly before trailing down my jaw and neck.
A whimper left my mouth as I squeezed my thighs together, not knowing how to handle this version of Drayven.
The one that wanted me. That fed into my secret desire for him, despite this being a dream.
“Don’t make me leave.” His voice was nearly pained, and I felt my entire body flush with heat as his kisses moved lower.
A tremble went through me as his rough hand pushed aside the lace material, exposing my breast. He let out a deep feral noise.
Holy hell. That noise jolted a part of me that had everything turning into a roaring wildfire.
I couldn’t even form a response as his hot mouth closed around my nipple, making me moan his name needily. My fingers slid into his hair like I had always imagined, and my legs opened for him further, his massive frame coming to rest between them.
“Holy shit,” I felt breathless as he moved to the other side, his fingers replacing his mouth in tortuous and teasing movements that had my clit pulsing with need. If the man wasn’t careful, I was going to end up coming from this alone.
“Every day,” he groaned. “Every fucking day, I have to ignore this Ama. Ignore wanting you.” His words should have annoyed or frustrated me, but instead I was far too caught up in the way he was playing every inch of my body, making my magic light up under his touch. It was toxic and absolutely dangerous.
When his lips brushed mine, I nearly pulled back, afraid to break the spell even though none of this was real.
Instead, his kiss deepened, and I found myself almost dizzy from the taste of him.
His growl against my lips as he slid his fingers beneath the lace teddy let me know he realized just how much he affected me.
Before I had a moment to be embarrassed, he slid a finger inside of me, sending a bolt of desire through me as he used his thumb to roll my clit with wet heat.
A scream caught in my throat as his teeth bit down on my neck just enough to make everything slam together at once.
I shook as my climax ripped through me, and I closed my eyes, feeling as if opening them would break my perfectly lust-filled haze…
“Ama.”
The voice that called my name was the same voice from my dream, only filled with far less desire and far more aggression, the growl making me almost nervous.
I shifted in my seat, realizing that we were, unfortunately, not in a bed.
A blush filled my face. Holy shit. Had I just come in my dream?
A dream about Drayven? Oh no. This was bad news.
Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to be more than a little embarrassed about the desire he could probably smell.
I felt so much better now that I’d had some relief.
Not just sexually either—my magic felt energized and was zapping around inside of me with excitement from feeding off of that sexual energy once again.
I had a feeling this was going to be the perfect loophole to needing to feed off of lust and desires. Despite having no clue why this was all of a sudden working to satisfy my Succubus hunger, I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at it.
I blinked my eyes open and reared back slightly, finding Drayven caging me against the seat, his jaw tight enough that I was seriously concerned it might break.
That wasn’t the only thing different about him, either.
His dark eyes flashed with a pulse of neon green, showing how little control he had over himself right now.
His breath was coming out rough and uneven.
Oh man. He was either really pissed or really turned on. I was going to assume the first.
“Why are you in my space?” I asked curiously, my voice filled with false calm.
As my post-climax haze settled, I became increasingly more embarrassed.
Who has an orgasm from a dream? He probably thought I was weird.
Then again, it wasn’t like he could confirm that I’d had the dream.
Thank fuck he didn’t know he’d starred in it—
“Why the fuck are you using your magic on me?” His snarl had me freezing as I was hit with a metaphorical slap of icy wind to the face, shaking me from the cozy reality I had been living in.
His accusation hurt on several levels, but I needed to address what he was saying first, because… well, it just was ridiculous.
Obviously, I hadn’t used my magic on him. I would know if I had...wouldn’t I?
“Magic?” I arched my brow in utter confusion. The only magic that had occurred was getting off from a dream in secret.
“You pulled me into your dream with your Succubus magic,” he leveled, his energy dangerously sharp against my skin.
What the hell?
I tilted my head, feeling everything inside me tighten with concern and anxiety, “What? What are you talking about?”
“I was in your fucking dream, or you were in mine,” he growled, running a hand through his hair. “I have no idea how you were doing it. I wasn’t dreaming and then, suddenly, I was there when you—”
I felt mortified. Having a sex dream was one thing, but having a sex dream and literally pulling someone who hated you into it…yeah, that was an entirely new level of ‘fuck my life.’
Wait...had the same thing happened with the arrogant man from the restaurant when I’d had my dream last night?
I frowned, not understanding how any of that was even possible.
I couldn’t deny that there had been elements to the dream I had thought were odd for myself to think up.
Like the bedroom I didn’t recognize, or the lingerie that wasn’t my style.
Drayven might have been onto something about me being in his dream, not that it really made anything any better.
But some of what had happened in the dream was from his imagination, not mine.
Had my body realized how I needed to feed and called out in my sleep to satisfy itself?
His face softened slightly, “You didn’t do it on purpose?”
I swallowed and sat back—or I tried to, but Drayven’s hand shot out, and he tugged my leg forward before he seemed to process it.
My breathing quickened as he stared down at his hand on my leg with conflict and confusion on his face, as if he hadn’t meant to do that.
I squeezed my legs together, feeling uncomfortable and flustered and frankly not knowing how to handle the situation.
“Yeah, sorry, Drayven. I’m not exactly in the habit of pulling people into sex dreams. Especially not people who have avoided me like the plague since we kissed,” I muttered, pushing his hand off my leg.
“I haven’t—” his voice was tight and uncomfortable.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.” I interrupted him, not wanting to hear what he was accusing me of. It was all too apparent that my Succubus magic had acted out or something, and I just didn’t know how else to fix this besides apologizing and attempting to ignore it moving forward.
Self-hatred slammed into me hard as I realized that I was still, after all this time, at the mercy of a side of myself I didn’t even like. A side of myself that represented instability because of the woman who had given me that side then just up and left my father and I to follow her ‘nature.’
I continued before Drayven could say anything, “Could you sit back? I need you out of my space for a minute.” So I could lick my wounds and try to find some sense of pride to salvage.
Would he be pissed if I kicked him out of the carriage so I didn’t have to spend the next few hours feeling mortified?
I had a feeling he probably would. Maybe I could fly to the Summit instead.
Once we were at the Summit, I planned on being the queen of avoidance. Drayven was going to wonder if I was dead because he would see so little of me.
Drayven stared at me with such intensity that I wondered if he was considering killing me or something.
After a long moment, he finally sat back, and I let out a small sigh of relief, able to once again think straight.
The man moved to the exact opposite corner of the carriage, crossing his arms and leaning back, watching me closely.
I didn’t blame him. Clearly, my magic was predatory and unstable.
If he wasn’t such an ass I probably would have apologized even more than I already had. As it stood, I felt like once was enough.
As I stared out the carriage window at the passing landscape, I briefly wondered if my mother was somewhere out there.
Did she think about me? About my father?
Or was she caught up in orgies twenty-four seven or some shit?
My fingers twined with one another as I held them on my lap, trying to not feel the surge of heartbreak that usually accompanied thinking about my mom.
I had only been five when she left, so I didn’t remember a lot about her.
I didn’t have any positive memories, really—just negative ones that were associated with her eventually leaving.
I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I distinctly remember the feeling of seeing less of her and asking my father why.
His answers had never been distinct though.
Well, until the night that she’d left for good.
It had been time for bed and, despite her being absent most of the time, she had always said goodnight to me.
This time, when she had come into my room, I could tell something was wrong.
When she had pressed a kiss to my forehead, I’d noticed that she was wearing a coat, which was odd.
I couldn’t tell you what she had said to me that night, but I had been left with a feeling of heartbreak and, after lying in my bed for a few hours, I had gotten up and gone to find my dad.
It was the only time I had ever seen the man cry. I had immediately given him a hug, and when I’d asked him where my mother was, he’d squeezed me even tighter. Then he’d told me that she’d left. That she was going on a trip and wouldn’t be back for a very long time.
I knew he’d thought he was saying the right thing, especially when trying to explain to a five-year-old where her mother was, but I really had thought she was on a trip.
She’d gone on a lot of them, so I had clung to that until I was nearly eight and asked my dad again. That time, he had told me the truth.
My mother had decided that her freedom, her ability to express herself however she wanted, was more valuable to her than her own child. Her own husband. Her own family.
He had been far kinder, hashing out some bullshit about her feeling trapped by the territory’s expectations of her and the responsibilities of being a queen, but I knew what had happened.
That was the day I’d learned that blood meant nothing.
Family wasn’t genetic code—it was who you wanted in your life.
People who truly loved you. So, while I hated how exiled I felt in Mortem, I knew I had my father and Zurie.
They were my family. They were all I needed.