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CHAPTER ONE
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Trailing behind my mate down the endless corridor, I pull my ceremonial robes closer to my body. Flame sconces line the walls to illuminate our pathway, casting dancing shadows across the clay-brick corridors and rough cement walls.
There is no daylight here, underground….
I haven't bathed in daylight in years.
Standing upright, silent, and attentive, we pass by our coven members on the way to the ceremony hall.
Their faces are obscured by masquerade masks, each with star chains drooping across the mask and connecting an eye to each other.
Each black mask has speckles of red paint, resembling blood.
Everyone is uniform down to the black, satin coven cloak wrapping around their bodies.
I'm used to this. It's just a normal day here in our coven, Children of Banity.
I almost collide with Talon's burly back as we enter the ceremony hall, and I have to step around him.
In front of a tall podium made up of skulls from Banity’s victims, stands our leader, Deemer Dellarosa.
His hands are stacked together, fingers laced.
At his side, his mate is on her knees with a chain and collar around her neck, displaying a distant stare.
A leash is thrown carelessly away from them off to the side, waiting to be needed.
A plain, white nightgown swallows her body.
BellaRyn is hardly ever forced to wear her coven cloak, even for rituals. Deemer would prefer her naked, but he doesn't want everyone else staring outside of our mating rituals.
Which is what we are here for.
As a drakkonian- or a witch with dragon ancestry- born into the coven, it is my duty to continue the blood line. That's why I was bred specifically for my mate. He's all I have ever known since turning twenty-one.
Now, the coven is getting antsy with me for not getting pregnant already. Deemer and his other mate, Bexlee, look at me with such disappointment.
I hate being a disappointment. My mate will never love me back if I disappoint them.
Deemer clears his throat as the waves of members file in, circling us. Behind Deemer, a roaring fire engulfes the hearth, warming up the cement room. It gets awfully chilly underground.
“Welcome,” Deemer announces, gesturing towards the crowd. “Banity, we have a ritual today, as you may know. It is time to attempt another spark of life between Talon and Cerys. Our coven needs more members, as The Elder's Clan is sending their Elite warriors to kill us off.”
A chorus of boos erupt from the cloud of people.
A couple children of different ages were already born here, but not very many. The children are kept separate until they turn Twenty-one. Until then, they're with two designated caregivers on the opposite side of the underground compound. We don't see them. We don't interact with them.
Would I be able to separate from my child that long? Would I be capable of handling it? Well, it's not like I have a choice. Maybe I could sneak in to see them.
Deemer waves his hand towards me, suggesting that I unrobe first. I nod. With trembling hands, I slide my fingers into the edge of the robe and push, sending the heavy garment to the concrete floor. The frigid air bites my nipples, hardening them.
Talon sucks in a breath.
My arms twitch instinctively, but I know better than to cover myself, especially for my mate.
He doesn't like me covering myself.
My hand cuffs around my other arm while my palm rests against my bare thigh.
Next, Talon unties the thick strings keeping the robe in place. It cascades like a waterfall, revealing the stacks of carved muscles on my handsome mate.
For a skinny guy, he's got the best washboard abs. His muscles sit tight to his frame, dense and stable. He's lanky, but those muscles are tightly wound cords.
His face is chiseled, cheeks defined sharply. Choppy, short, black hair dips into his caramel eyes, courtesy of his pure drakkonian blood.
My eyes travel down his happy trail, stopping at the prize. He's not the biggest I've ever seen, but it gets the job done.
Size doesn't matter, anyway.
Through viscous trembles, I stumble and almost topple over, but I right myself. My heart speeds and my palms are sweaty, and I have to resist the urge to rub them vigorously against my thighs.
I want to get this over with. I don't like fucking in front of our coven.
I move to lay down on the ceremonial table, which had been prepped by Deemer and Bexlee for this ritual. For mating rituals, they cover stone slabs with padded bedrolls to make the experience more comfortable.
They want us to orgasm. They love watching it. Why? I'm really not sure. That's just how it is.
Four black leather stirrups are attached to each end of the slab, but I don't put my limbs through them.
As long as I don't fight, I won't be required to be put in them.
Situating my head on the provided pillow, I keep my legs suctioned together.
Deemer shuffles above me, presenting a jar full of a thick, crimson liquid.
Talon's blood. We did this when we did the binding souls ritual, which is our version of a wedding.
I'm used to this, I tell myself, this isn't anything new.
Talon halts to my right, taking the fluid from Deemer. He gazes at me, eyes fierce and determined. He holds the jar over my head, whispering unintelligible words into the void around us. His eyes glow a striking celestial white and pulsate.
Tipping the jar over, the pouring sound echoes throughout the chamber. I squeeze my eyes shut. Blood splashes my face, raining down and splattering across the cement. It invades my nose and every crevice of my face. I clamp my lips shut to lessen the amount attacking my mouth.
As quickly as it began, it ends, and I feverishly swipe the blood upward and over my head, sending it splashing on the opposite side of me.
Peeling my eyes open, Talon scoops up a finger-full of his blood from my chest and shoves it into my mouth.
“Swallow,” he barks. My body convulses on a gag, but it goes down.
“Good girl,” he praises while patting my thigh, moving to the end of the table.
Talon pulls my legs down until my knees are draped over the edge of the table. My legs are still ironed together.
“Open,” he barks again. My cheeks flush, and I slowly pull them apart. He grows impatient and drives his hand in between my thighs and wrings them open.
His head drops down to my pussy. “So beautiful, lying covered in my blood. Deemer knew what he was doing when he gifted you to me.”
A gift. He considers me… a gift?
Should I be wrapped up in a bow? That could be hot. Would he enjoy it if I presented myself like a present?
Would he love me then?
From the corner of my eye, Deemer moves from in front of us to the circle of members, watching us with white heat.
As Deemer leaves us, Talon takes another scoop of his blood and smears it across my pussy. The cold bite tingles my flesh.
Then he takes three, stout fingers and drives them into my tight hole, shoving the blood inside of me and exploring deeply, ensuring each inch is covered.
My back bows off of the table from the brutal intrusion.
My pussy spasms around his fingers, clenching.
The sound I release is not attractive, and I want to crawl inside of myself and die.
I feel him stretching me as he pounds his digits inside of me. My body lurches with each thrust, and as the mounting pressure builds, so does the heat in my stomach.
My palms dig into the rough terrain on the table, keeping me on top of it.
My head lulls to the side as the heat reaches the precipice, but as soon as my pussy clenched around his fingers, he retreats. With a pop, he sucks the blood and my cum right off of his fingers.
Without a word, he grips my chin roughly, corrects my head, and slides inside of me. Each ridge of his cock hits a nerve as he enters, sending a jolt of pure ecstasy to my clit.
My head begins to tingle with pleasure, gracing me with specks of white in my vision.
Eyes flickering with ferality, our gazes meet, throwing my legs over his shoulders. He slams into me over and over, hard enough that the table's legs lift off of the ground back and forth.
Other than my cries of pleasure, the clanking of the table is the only sound echoing throughout the room.
My back arches again with each stroke, and my hands wildly attempt to hold onto something–anything. They panickily search around me, desperately wishing I could link my arms around his neck.
They opt to dig into Talon's arm instead, gripping the life out of it.
Talon's hand dips down while the other continues to force my face to look at him. His thumb strokes my clit, and I flinch at the feel of his cool flesh against the warmth of mine.
Everything floods me all at once. Every emotion, every sensation, even each stitch of our powers that tie us together. It's raw, it's real, and I hate myself for how much I love it.
Does he feel the same? He fucks me, sure, but we haven't said that allusive three word phrase yet.
My body shutters, shaking from the earth shattering sensations illuminating me from top to bottom.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cry, riding the wave and loving each second of it.
I let my mouth crank open wider, unbothered by the ugly noises I am emitting. They want a show, and a show they will have.
“Look at you,” Talon sneers through each thrust, “taking my cock so well, like you need it to breathe. You're such a good girl for your mate.” His fingers dig into my chin and squish my face as he fucks me.
Blinding fervor takes the reigns, but a muffled moan from above us causes my head to snap up.
Bexlee is behind BellaRyn, one arm around her waist, anchoring her in place, and another hand is fastened against her mouth.
His feet are hooked behind her heels, pulling her legs apart.
Deemer is on his knees in front of her, holding her dress up in a wad.
Bella's body quivers as his tongue jets out and licks her, swirling it around her like she is ice cream.
My pussy floods at the sight.
What's wrong with me?