Chapter 15 Fight
FIGHT
An hour later, Strom, Bjorn, Mikkel, and I are assembled in my room. Baldur’s still out, and can’t be a part of this, but Mikkel has gotten us food, and Strom’s refreshed the bed with a new silk duvet and sheets, found in one of the magically protected alcoves.
Strom had us all change into silken pajama attire for this, rather than wear our fighter’s leathers, which he found in a trunk in one alcove. We’ve all eaten, so we at least have that going for us. Now, it’s awkward, as everyone stands around the table, finished with our food.
No idea where to start.
I fidget now as I stand before my drakes in a draping plum silk robe, with a high collar and intricate golden braid-work. It’s comfy and not frilly; though I’m intensely aware of how butt-ass naked I am underneath for our upcoming sexcapade.
Despite Strom’s encouragement, I feel like a piece of meat in it, standing at the head of the table with my drakes lingering around me, each dressed in nothing but silken lounge-pants for our endeavor.
Unsure where to begin, I can’t help but eyeball them now as I sip a strange wine that tastes like peaches and mint, which Mikkel found in the kitchen. It’s not like I’m not attracted to my drakes; I am, as I eyeball each of them now, and their distinctly unique hotness.
Bjorn is massively fit, his rock-solid thighs and shelf ass disastrously hot in his crimson silk pants, embroidered with gold.
His incredible, long hair already falls free over his shoulders like pure spun gold, decorating his massive shoulders and firm chest, his strong waist and washboard abs any drakaina’s wet dream.
Bjorn returns my gaze from beneath his level brows, scalding as he watches me, his eyes already gone full-gold into the blistering heat of his drake. Though he’s committed to this now, he’s waiting for my say-so to get this party started, and hasn’t approached me yet.
Strom waits, lifting a cheeky blond eyebrow at me now as he smiles around his own wineglass, sipping our beverage for tonight.
Dressed in dark emerald silk pants with golden embroidery, Strom’s rucked his short, tawny hair up into a glorious mess, his lean, mean frame calling to me with how tight-wound it is, and able to fuck.
I miss the roaring dragon tattoos that used to decorate his lovely skin; he looks bare now without them. Something inside me darkens at that, worried that Strom no longer carries his clan’s protection.
That he gave it all away, to save me—and all of us, from destruction.
Mikkel picks up on my inner darkness now, as I feel a sudden heave from his vast black mamba of a drake. My gaze snaps to him and I see knowledge glitter in his dark eyes as he watches me, swirling his wine and downing it in one fell swoop.
Those incredible, terrible eyes devour me as Mikkel holds my gaze. He looks beyond deadly tonight in all-black silk pants with no embroidery whatsoever, only his sea-raiding Danish tattoos scrawling all over his left chest and shoulder, dipping down his back.
As our inner dragons make a connection, my black Bone Magic drake roars up tall within me. Mikkel jolts, setting his wineglass down on the table as hot copper flares in his eyes.
Then he’s coming to me—breaking our stalemate, at last.
Mikkel’s the furthest from me around the table, however. Bjorn is the closest; I feel his own inner drake roar now, furious and possessive, to not let Mikkel be the one to contact me first in this.
As he surges to me, Bjorn blocks Mikkel off. Bjorn corrals me in his strong, brawny arms as he growls a warning to keep Mikkel back.
A vast heat of competition fills the space as both Bjorn’s and Mikkel’s energies roar now, Bjorn touching me while Mikkel moves around to my other side.
Even though we’ve all agreed to do this, I feel a hot spike of power fill the vaulted room as they contest over me; I struggle to breathe in all that scalding drake-energy, violent.
Each of my drakes is a dominant, and it shows, as Mikkel and Bjorn both put hands on me at the same time. Strom is just a split-second behind; he’s far too late, though, as the first two drakes fight with each other now.
Over me.
As Mikkel yanks me to him, I’m pulled right out of Bjorn’s arms. Mikkel snarls into my hair, low and possessive, as his tall, lean body wraps around me from behind.
His inner drake crashes through me as he claims me; Bjorn gives a true snarl in response, furious that Mikkel ripped me away. As Bjorn slams his mighty, rageful power through me into Mikkel, Strom growls from nearby, trying to unmake their enmity by pulling me into his arms instead.
Strom forces Mikkel to give me up with a targeted slap of his dark crimson-green power, crashing through our bond.
I’m suddenly a rag doll between them, however, as I’m yanked back into Bjorn’s arms as he growls at Strom, then back into Mikkel’s as Mikkel floods Bjorn with a seething dark Bone Magic surprise through our bond.
It gets personal then, as Bjorn roars and hammers Mikkel with his manifest physical energy, rather than just blasting power through our Bloodbond.
As Bjorn slams out a palm, he pummels a hard blast of Bloodwind into Mikkel’s side like a punch.
Still not one hundred percent healed from everything he went through in Copenhagen, though it’s far better after our recent sex, Mikkel grunts in pain as he’s forced to give me up, doubling over and clutching his side.
But Mikkel’s black eyes fix upon Bjorn then, hard. As a roaring chartreuse green fire fills them, energy snarls throughout Mikkel’s veins, making the livid chartreuse green lines of his dragon stand out on his skin.
With a cold lack of compassion, I feel Mikkel concentrate his energy on what he does best. As he slams a vicious spear of chartreuse-green fire right out from his mind, thrusting it deep into Bjorn’s, I know we’re fucked.
Paralyzed by Mikkel’s mind-drive, Bjorn crashes to the floor—me on top of him, because he got paralyzed with his fingers caught in my robe. As I sprawl on top of Bjorn, who’s been incapacitated with a look of shocked fury frozen on his face by Mikkel’s mean strike, I’ve suddenly had it.
As Mikkel’s fast hands seize me to claim me again, I take command. “Stop! Fucking… stop it!!” I roar, as a nasty pulse from my blackest Bone Magic hammers out of me.
Hard.
As my darkest magic roars inside me now, seeking to punish my drakes for fighting over me, I scurry up fast from the floor, out of their knot.
My most terrible magic careens inside my veins as I’m devoured by my Wraith; my mind is swallowed by blackness, as everything inside me roars, livid at their contentiousness.
It makes me open my mouth, roaring in truth now and shaking the vaults with deafening basso notes as I shriek with harpy’s overtones in my voice.
A terrible black Bloodwind whirls all around me; my fingers have become talons, and I didn’t even feel them shift, as spines shoot up from my shoulders, shredding my robe.
That gargantuan wrath devours me—completely now. As I seethe in my terrible black retribution, I feel the power of Baldur’s curses pulling on me, as they eat at his beautiful flesh.
I’m one second from shifting up into my blackest dragon, as I feel that horrible darkness fill my bones, devouring my veins and nearly snuffing my brighter drakaina out.
But then someone’s arms curl around me. Smooth lips brush my ear; a voice as sweet as midnight and as soulful as the stars enters my wrathful mind as Strom sings a low, intoxicating melody to soothe me.
That song flows all around me, and deep into my body, as our touch enhances it. As Strom’s arms curl around me and he sings in that incredible, gods-given voice of his, I feel him pour his own dark drake into me, to calm my wrath.
It works, barely. Full of dark passion rather than meanness like me, Strom holds me now, as he pours his dark eros and serenity into me.
From seething and ruinous, I’m melting back into Rikyava.
As I heave hard breaths, I’m able to find my inner light; as Strom’s beautifully intense dragon coils all around me now through our Bloodbond, it’s like fitting a key inside a lock.
Something clicks, and my darkest nature releases, smoothing back down as I’m finally able to get my shit together from where I went, just now. As my darkest Bone Magic recedes like a leviathan lake, placid once more, my brighter Blood Magic drakaina finally rises inside me.
Through it all, Strom holds me, singing and swaying us with his body wrapped around mine, until my eros wins over my wrath. At last, I melt; I place my cheek against his, beyond grateful for him as I heave hard breaths, recovering.
I know he understands, as he squeezes me around the waist, then kisses me on the cheek and ceases singing.
My drakes have ceased fighting, as well; Mikkel’s released Bjorn from his mind-paralyzing power as we all listened to the undying sweetness of Strom’s song, feeling it all through our bones and back.
Mikkel heaves hard breaths, standing nearby as Bjorn sits up on the floor with his arms around his knees, both recovering from their sudden contentiousness. They stare at me and Strom, not interrupting, because all of them know how much I need this.
Because Strom is a safe space for me in all these big-dick egos. I feel it deeply now, as he holds me and we just sway together for another moment.
Before he heaves a deep breath and speaks.
“Right. That isn’t going to work,” Strom says as I feel him pin my other drakes with his intense green eyes, disdaining.
“Fighting over Rikyava in the bedroom is only going to piss off her Bone Magic and make it go wrathful, like we all just felt. As has happened before, because of you two asshats. Great job, guys.”