20. The Ride
TWENTY
the ride
Keira
Headmaster Reign strides through the line of students, his smile smug and pleased with their deliveries this evening. Arcane stands at my side, his hair seeming longer with the weight of the water pulling it down at the nape of his neck. His smirk is too sexy when I look up into his starry eyes. The dragonfly from our trial is still in my pocket, and I hate that we were too late getting back to submit it with the others. I hope Reign doesn’t disqualify our creature when we turn it in.
“Fantastic findings, Protectors. Some of the rarest dragons I’ve seen from students in years were submitted this evening!” Reign’s deep blue eyes literally twinkle with delight, sending fraying lines all around his face from the smile alone.
“Brelen, tell the others what you brought me tonight.” He clasps the boy’s shoulder in his long spider-like fingers and waits with an expectant stare at the blonde boy who seems to have a split lip and a black eye swelling his features. He keeps his hand tucked in beneath his other arm, and I think there are bandages wrapped around his palm and forearm there.
“Yasmin and I retrieved a fire tail in the depths of a cave off the rocky shores of Death Island! Largest one I’ve ever seen!” he tells us all proudly. His eyes shine as a burst of applause and cheers roar up from his surrounding classmates.
“Very well done, Brelen!” Headmaster Reign congratulates with another firm clasp of his hand against the boy’s back. “The fire tail will do us well against the Raiders!”
My brows pull together as that last line sinks in. He’s using these creatures in the fight against the Kingdom of Minden?
“Josephen,” Reign turns on his feet, and those manic eyes focus on a small boy at the end of the line, “tell us what you brought us, my boy!”
The boy’s eyes widen behind broken glasses, and his voice comes out on a rush of words.
“An old widdle wood. Possibly a former shifter.” He adjusts his wiry frames, and a new chunk of glass falls from the lenses. “He was hiding in an abandoned barn just miles from here.”
“Widdle woods are rare. Fantastic chameleon abilities. But they’re small. Not at all the sort of brute strength we’ll be needing on the battlefield. The widdle wood and several other of our newfound dragons from tonight will be a great task to overcome for you all in our second trial this week!”
My lips part with a heavy inhale, and I look to Arcane immediately.
“Does he mean we . . . will have to fight this dragon?”
The pink of his tongue slides slowly over his lower lip. He shifts from one leg to the other, folding his arms across his bare chest. It takes him several stalling seconds to finally answer my question.
“I don’t think we’ll be fighting it,” he whispers, and my heart settles into a steady calm inside my chest before he adds on a quieter tone, “I think . . . he wants us to slay it.”
“Arcane!” The headmaster’s excited stare lands on my mate at my side, cutting off our discussion immediately. “We’ve all been on the edge of our seats to see what the Captain of the Death Riders would bring us!”
Students step aside, offering us a wide runway of space to send our little dragonfly down into the clutches of the headmaster’s greedy hands. Arcane’s head tilts, and he watches me, his gaze never once leaving my eyes to look toward the gold blinking pocket along my arm. The pounding of my heart is a pulsing pain in my temple, and I hate that I brought this defenseless creature to this terrible academy.
Arcane steps forward slightly until his body is partially in front of mine, concealing me mostly behind his broad shoulders.
“We journeyed to Dragon’s Lair.” A few women closest to us gasp at his admission. “We wanted to go big or go home.”
The headmaster nods, his smile growing so wide, the waves of it line his lips as he focuses intently on his most prized Protector.
“We almost had a nornhorn. The first I’ve ever seen, actually.” Silver eyes peer back at me, and there’s hurt shining there as he holds my gaze before returning to face the hard-boring stare ahead of him. “But it got away. We were attacked by a den of demons. They chased us off the island before we could claim a creature for the trial. We don’t have anything to turn in, Headmaster. I’m sorry.” He folds his hands neatly in front of himself, and there’s a challenge in the headmaster’s gaze.
What are you doing? I ask him carefully, not daring to draw any more attention to me or the faint light shining from my pocket.
What I was told I’m supposed to do: protect.
“You’ll rank dead last without a dragon to submit to us, Arcane.” The cold statement holds no affection as the headmaster steps closer through the crowd, enclosing in on us with every slow step.
“I understand,” Arcane replies.
“You’ll have to slay all of the dragons tomorrow to even rank in the top ten before going into the third and final trial.”
“I understand,” Arcane says once more, holding the headmaster’s enraged glare as he comes just inches from the shifter’s boots. The old man stares down on him.
And Arcane never once drops his gaze.
“Your father would be just as disappointed as I am today, my boy.” And with that, he shoves past his captain. His heavy steps echo through the dining hall before the doors slam closed behind him.
We turn to look back at the quiet he leaves in his wake. The double doors are closed firmly, but it isn’t their enormous structure that demands our attention. A petite girl with long glossy black hair still stands at the wall.
Lila shakes her head at the two of us. Then she pushes off from where she’s leaning, and she, too, shoves through the doors with more anger than I’ve ever seen in one tiny girl.
I have to talk to her, Arcane says on a tired sigh within my mind.
Dark circles kiss beneath his lashes, and I want to pull him into our bed and force him to just exist with me. Can we not just . . . be ? If only for a moment.
Long fingers slide through mine, and with a single step, he’s brushing up against my chest, demanding every ounce of my attention from the feel of his nearness alone.
“Go upstairs. Get changed. Get some sleep,” he whispers, his head tilted down like he might kiss me again like he did on the island. I can still feel the press of his hands against my body . . .
I nod hard. “You should talk to her. She’ll understand.” I continue to nod to him, but I can tell from the low slump of his shoulders that he doesn’t believe my words.
“Yeah,” he sighs.
Then he pulls away.
And leaves me with the weight of the academy and the trials of tomorrow pressing down on me.
The warmth of the morning sunlight is something I hope I never get used to. I curl into the feel of it against my eyelids. The bed is cold when I shift, and I search blindly through the blankets for a short moment before realizing I’m alone. Did Arcane come to bed last night?
Good morning, my beautiful Haunting, his voice purrs through my thoughts, and my lashes lift immediately at the rumbling of his voice. Meet me on the west wing roof when you get up.
I’ll meet you there.
I smile lightly at his command, and when the sweetest little dragon rubs the end of its warm snout against my cheek, I smile even harder.
Arcane Deces, the cruel captain of the Death Riders, saved a dragonfly last night. Sure, it’s just a little fly of a creature, but it’s a start, right? He wouldn’t even hurt a fly . . . except that time he hunted me down through the halls of the academy, but I’m not counting that.
The glowing light pulses as big hungry eyes stare up at me from the small dragon.
“What do dragonflies eat?” I ask it, and its little talons pull at my hair as it starts to climb up my head.
I bring it back down and hold the tiny beast in my palm. The flick of a glowing tail swooshes back and forth, and I realize I don’t know a thing about this newfound pet of mine.
So much so that it’s dangerous. I’m not a beast tamer. I’m barely even a girl, to be honest. I want my sweet little dragonfly to live . . .
With my hand held close to my heart, I crawl across the massive bed and over to the old window. The cry of hinges shrieks through the room as warm salty air sweeps over my face. I bring my palm to the ledge and stare out at the washing waves of the ocean that drift into the horizon.
Dragon’s Lair is long gone.
But my new little pet will still find a life here. A better life than the academy will give it, anyway.
At the sight of a wasp buzzing by, the beast’s talons curl into my flesh, and he kicks off with wings spread wide open to catch the breeze. A long tongue flicks out from its sharp snout, and the dragonfly catches its prey on the first try, licking its lips as it swallows down the still buzzing wasp.
“Gross,” I whisper to it as a form of an affectionate farewell.
I feel good for letting it go, but the dragonfly stays on my mind as I pull on my pants and boots and make my way up to the west wing. The door is shoved closed behind me by the weight of the wind, and I pause there at the span of the wide-open quarreling quarters. The black mats are clean, without a fighter in sight. I’m bitterly reminded of the last time I was here among so many of my peers. With Clawd.
The caw of seagulls and the rush of the ocean hang in the silence. For a moment, I think I’m alone. And then I see him.
Strong arms brace against the ledge of the rooftop. A clatter of abs lead my gaze down the faint white lines that make swooping art across his black ink. His pants hang low against the veering muscle tone of his hips. A broad smile pulls across the most kissable lips when he spots me.
Arcane’s stride is pure arrogance, like he’s never been bested a day in his beautiful life. Why does that make me want to test my blossoming new abilities on him?
With a quick grab of a wooden sword, he rotates the weapon with ease around his form, slashing through the air with power and agility.
“Second Trial is tonight just after the academy banquet.”
With a thick swallow of doubt, I nod to him.
“You missed the first day. You missed the training the other mates got. I don’t want us to destroy any more lighthouses, so I thought a bit of practice might do us good.”
“What makes you think I need it?” I ask, and I fold my arms securely across my chest to really put my confidence on full display for him.
Until he tosses the wooden sword at me. And I quickly high-step away from it as it clatters ungracefully to the floor.
His brows lift high, and his hands linger palms up at his sides like he’s biting back so many unspoken jabs right now. And I appreciate it. I really do.
I make to reach for the mock weapon when something is shoved down on my head. The tight material smooshes over my hair and feels rough and well-used against my temple.
“Ew, it smells. What is that”?”
“Helmet,” he tells me with a pat on the worn leather against my skull.
He pulls another old piece of thin leather from the bin by the door, and he flops it over my chest and back. Rusted chain metal clatters in place over it. His palm meets his chin as he stares down on the disheveled warrior he’s made with a curling grimace that I’ve never seen anyone direct my way before.
“Perfect,” he mumbles before striding back to the wooden sword and scooping it up. With one hand, he shakes it at me back and forth like an appetizing bone meant for an old dog. I narrow my eyes on him. He tosses it my way, and I reluctantly catch it before it hits the ground this time.
“Why aren’t you weighted down with chain metal and leather?” I ask him with a rather lame lift of my toy sword.
“Because,” his words are a low rumble from deep in his chest, “I’m not a dragon rider, Haunting.” The smirk that pulls at his lips is sinfully arrogant. “I’m the ride.”
I roll my eyes so hard, I nearly foresee the future, I swear it. A snarky reply is right on my tongue when large black wings begin growing from his shoulder blades. They shadow across his cocky smirk. A sharp black tail swoops back and forth behind him. Bone-white horns part his hair, and beastly silver eyes zero in on me.
My mouth goes dry at the sinister sight of him. Of course. I won’t be fighting Raiders or thieves tonight. I’ll be slaying dragons.
With slightly sweaty hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword, I try to take this moment more seriously.
“Angle your stance,” he orders, his footfalls circling me as he takes in the position of my body. “Bring your dominant foot forward.”
I follow his easy instructions, and his smile is alight with encouragement.
“Very good,” he praises, and a low spot deep in my core reacts to the gravelly tone of his words.
“You’re incredibly quick,” he adds, and if I’d known this morning’s meeting would just be an overview of all my best qualities, I would have woken up earlier. “Always lean into your strengths. Maybe you’re not the biggest or the strongest, but you’re fast, Haunting. Now come at me!”
I charge at him on rushing steps and a waving slash of my sword. He sidesteps my advance with ease, flicking the leather of my helmet as I stagger past him.
“Again,” he trolls.
With slower steps, I turn on him, circling him to find his weak spot.
With a quick spear of my blade, I aim for his stomach, trying my best to hit the thickest part of him that I can. But his tail curls round the blade, the hilt, and both of my hands as he drags me forward and flings me into the ledge of the rooftop. Pain stings my palm when I hit the concrete barrier.
He watches me for a moment, gauging my features before he dips his head low and holds my gaze with a dark challenge as he says, “Again.”
Through my frustration, I realize I’m being lazy with my advances. I should listen to his praises instead of preening at them.
On a quick step, I rush to the left and then lunge to the right. The worn end of my wooden blade punches into the center of his stomach. The breath shoves from his lungs, and he coughs hard, but a smile pulls at the edges of his lips.
“Again,” he whispers on a jagged exhale.
This time, when I advance, he’s quick to dodge. He even goes as far as to roll away from a last-minute attack from behind. On prowling steps, he keeps his back to the ledge, refusing to turn his gaze from me for a single second this time. His wings spread wide, distracting me as his tail flicks against my ankle, and he pulls. My head rushes down, and I nearly face-plant hard into the matt. I stagger for several moments before righting my stance.
You tripped me! I yell down the bond, right in the core of his little beast brain! The nerve!
I did, he replies with a sexy smile that brings out his dimples.
I could have split my head open!
Luckily for you, you have that wonderful helmet, though.
My gaze glares into his obnoxious smirk, and I pull the sweat-ridden helmet off and toss it to the mat.
You fight dirty, I hiss at him as I stalk him closer and closer.
Mmm, you should see what else I do dirty, he hums along the edge of my thoughts like a featherlight caress with his words.
With stalking steps, we round each other, and it emboldens me. His strength feels like my strength. And his arrogance . . . no, I don’t think anyone could ever be as arrogant as the captain of the Death Riders.
I grow tired of the wait, the pounding of my heart soars, and I rush at him. At the last minute, I toss the weapon to the floor, and I see the surprise in his eyes as my palms clasp around his sides, and I drill him into the mat with more force than I even knew I had. He lands with a heavy thud. His legs tangle with mine, and a sense of achievement soars through my chest as I realize I did it! I landed him flat on his back! Me! A Girl!
“I did it!” I say to him as I stare down at his shining silver eyes that smile up at me. Warm hands slowly slide under my shirt to hold my hips. But it doesn’t stop my mouth from running on. “I took down the leader of the Death Riders, and I want everyone to know that I won’t hesitate to do it again!” I taunt him.
Oh, really? he asks, but I keep going.
Really, I say but that isn’t enough to really express myself so I lay it on oh so thick.
“From this day forward, please refer to me only as the Captain Slayer. The Dragon Tamer. Or perhaps—”
But I never get to tell him the best title of all because he leans forward, and silences my droning speech with the softest press of his lips against mine.
I love the way you feel inside me. I want to keep all of your words for myself and no one else, he hums through my thoughts as his tongue parts my lips, and all I can reply is a moan of desperation as big hands slide down low across the curve of my ass. His hold there is firm, and it only glides lower as he deepens the kiss and says, I first felt you in the in-between. You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, and I had to fucking look you in the eye and walk away from you, not knowing if I’d ever feel alive again without you.
The intensity of his words sparks through my mind and body, and it only intensifies as he cradles me in his arms and flips me on the mat. His big body cages over me, and I lock my thighs around his hips, holding him in place against me as he rocks against my center hard.
Now, you’re in my thoughts. You’re within me, and I—I need to be in you so fucking bad, Keira.
Arcane, I manage, and the groan that hums across my lips is a growling rumble of lust. There’s a push and pull of our bodies. My fingers thread through his hair until I’m gripping his horns and kissing him harder.
He pulls back with a gasp of air dragging over his lips.
Lie back for me.
I blink at the sound of his words in my thoughts, and I nod to him over and over again as I lower until my back presses into the mat.
Hooded eyes trail over my lips, the chain metal, my pants . . .
Sharp claws sink right through the thin metal. The strands pop around his arching fingers. He rips it away with a clatter of metal in his fist. It’s discarded, and then he’s trailing a sharp index finger down the span of the leather. The thick straps holding it in place don’t stand a chance. It’s flipped over my body, and then there’s just a white academy button-down rising and falling with every heavy breath I take. Strong hips rock into mine as he leans in and presses a slow kiss along the curve of my neck.
You taste so fucking good, Keira, he murmurs through my thoughts, and I feel the wetness pooling between my thighs at the sound of his rugged voice within me.
His hand slides down just below my clavicle bone, but the sound of fabric ripping has me fluttering my eyes closed as his big hand clasps fully over my breast. He teases my nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his tongue flicks lightly along the tender flesh of my neck.
And then he’s lowering himself down. His palms skim up my thighs, and he handles my pants with more care, pulling them down in one fluid move as he lowers himself down just above my center.
The shine of his eyes holds mine as he presses a single kiss to my inner thigh. My knees tremble around his shoulders. The heat of his breath kisses my flesh, and he does it again and again until a desperate breath shudders from my lungs, and I’m staring up at the billowing clouds passing over us.
My lashes close hard to stop my thoughts from wandering to the unlocked door or the dragons I hear on the grounds below or from just begging him for more, and I wish I could shut all my thoughts up before I think something more embarrassing. But it’s too late because as his lips seal over the crest of my panties, the heat of his tongue laps over me, and I fall apart in his hands.
Arcane please, please, please.
From between my thighs, he looks up at me with the most sinful smile.
“Keira,” he says out loud, and the sound of his voice cutting through the desperate sound of my breath alone sobers me.
I swallow hard and sit up slightly to face him.
Is he toying with me? Is this a mistake? Is he going to pull away from me again like he did before?
“Yes?” I manage.
“My mate will never beg any man. Not even me. Do you understand?” He holds my gaze with all seriousness, and when those sweet words don’t fully register in my mind, he captures my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I said, do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I utter and nod far too hard.
He smiles a genuine smile that sends lines around his full lips.
“Good girl,” he whispers on a gravelly tone, and my ovaries physically ache at the sound of those simple approving words. “Now lie back, beautiful.”
The moment my back hits the mat, his fingers twist around my panties. He drags them down my legs, and when I’m spread open before him, a warm and rough touch skims up my inner thigh. I shudder against him, but the whipping movement turns quick and slicing up my navel.
My eyes fly open just as the scales of a black tail brush across my breast. The edge of it is sharp as a knife, and my fingers lift to touch it. The breath that cuts from my lips surprises me. And he surprises me even more when his tail twists around my wrist midair . . . and then it seizes the other. With a quick whip of his tail, he brings my hands high above my head. Every flicking move is so assured and measured it’s unnerving. I’m too distracted by the shine of light across his dark scales along the length of it to realize a heavy shadow has fallen across my small body. I follow the outline of the silhouette to big broad shoulders that now seem even larger. Enormous black wings splay wide from his back. He leans forward, and the spiked point of the tip of his wings brushes the underside of my thighs. He pushes forward, and my legs fall open against the leathery expanse. My knees arch over the delicate scales there, and with a slight shift of his wings, he clearly has me right where he wants me. He has me pinned down and spread open for him. Every inch of me aches for him.
My thoughts spin with pleading words, but I shove them all aside, refusing to beg.
Among so many thoughts, one rings out loud and clear: taste me.
And then the heat of his tongue slides over my wetness. He swirls over my opening, drinking me in with a hunger I’ve never felt before. Big hands grip my ass. He spreads me there, too, opening me up for him to explore every inch of my body. He tastes me from the back all the way to the front, and when he gets to my clit, he sucks hard and flicks over me fast. I feel like a feast for him. The pressure builds with each lashing stroke, and it’s all too much. Until his worshiping tongue thrusts into my opening, and I feel it physically grow . My gasp releases as my eyes flash open. A groan hums from his lips across my wetness, and with another thrusting lap of his tongue, he grows impossibly thicker.
A moan like a desperate cry rips free from me just as the sharp points of curving horns brush over my lower stomach, but I can’t open my eyes. Horns pin my hips down in place when all I want is to rock against his mouth even more. His long thick tongue curls, pulsing up at just the right angle in just the right spot over and over and over again until my legs are shaking against rough scales.
His name is on my tongue, but I can’t tell if I’m making a single sound as the weight of an endless energy crashes through me like an all-consuming wave. And I hope I drown in it.
When my legs finally stop shaking, he slowly pulls back. With careful hands, he removes my knees from where they’re hooked over his wings. A soft kiss is pressed to the inside of my thigh. The length of his tail unweaves from my wrists, and they rub across the tender flesh there ever so gently. I don’t move. I don’t think I can. But there’s a light between us. Our marks glow like a fire wanting to escape. Our bodies are so close, I can’t help but imagine how good he’d feel if he lowered his pants and settled back in between my hips . . .
But I can’t beg.
He won’t allow it.
And so, when he grips my hips and pulls me down against him, I can only gasp at the delicious thoughts that are rushing through my mind. The smirk on his glistening lips tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. It’s a taunting smirk that he doesn’t hide. His long white horns are like a crown cresting his messy dark hair.
I can’t beg.
I can’t beg.
I can’t beg.
Instead, I shove his shoulder, and his ass hits the ground, his back meeting the concrete ledge. He’s perfectly seated. As the most perfect ride.
My tongue slides slowly across my lips, and I crawl over his legs. The white button-down teases against my flesh as the breeze pebbles my nipples. The thickness of his thighs brushes mine as I take my time straddling him and watch the silver ring around his pupils darken at the sight of me sitting on his lap.
Big hands clasp my hips, and I slip my palm between us, sliding down beneath his pants until hard, smooth skin meets my fingertips. The wetness of his tip glides over my palm as I take my time, wrapping my fingers almost fully around the thick base of his shaft. His lips part with a quiet exhale. His head tips back against the brick, and he watches me with hooded, sexy eyes.
As far as I know, I might be an undead virgin. A very horny, very needy virgin. But he doesn’t make me feel that way. Arcane makes me feel like a goddess gifted by the Fates themselves. So much so that he leans in and seals his lips to mine as I shove down the last stitch of fabric that separates me from this beautiful man. The smooth length of him bobs against my lower stomach. Steady hands hold my hips as I lift. My nipples brush lightly across his chest. My body thrums to life in his hands. The tip of his length teases my wetness, and as I lower down his shaft little by little, my mouth parts with a cutting gasp of a moan that doesn’t fully come out until he's fully filling me with every hard inch he has.
Arcane, I gasp, and he rocks his hips up against my clit so hard, I’m leaning into him.
I lift up slowly. Reluctantly. Tense fingers dig into my ass, and he guides my every move. I grip his horns hard to better angle myself just right against his thrusts. The rhythm of our hips meets just right with each languid stroke he gives me. He lets me ride him, but he’s very much in control of my body as well as his.
Or maybe we’re one.
It’s the only thought rushing behind my fluttering lashes as he sinks in hard and stays there. My head falls back as he pulls a jagged moan from my lungs. It all feels like a chaos of sensations firing too quickly through my tingling nerves. Rough scales slide up my shoulder and ever so gently around my throat, wrapping once, twice . . . the thickness of his shaft grows within me, sinking in and pulsing deeply until I can’t take anymore. My orgasm rushes through every inch of my body. I’m trembling in his hands, and he keeps going, thrusting faster and harder and deeper and using every part of me until . . .
His groan is a cursing growl that rumbles through my thoughts. He hugs me against him, burying his head in my neck and inhaling deeply like I’m the very air he needs to live.
And I do the same. I hold him to my chest, cradling the curve of his horns in my hands until everything I feel and everything I breathe is Arcane.
Big wings cover over us, cocooning us from the outside world.
In the distance, bells ring out, fraying my nerves with every chime they ring. Ultimately making me realize that time marches on even during the most endless, beautiful moments. No matter how much you wish you could hide away from it all.
There’s never a break for the living.