Chapter 9 Help #2
As we glance around each other now, it’s clear no one is in the mood. We couldn’t be further from group sex and the serious nookie we need to create our auric fire and restore our bodies and magic.
As if the Soulstone ritual and the ensuing battle, plus us barely escaping the Black Rift, drained not only our power but all our righteous determination, I can feel how even Bjorn’s stalwart nature is exhausted right now.
All of us having gone through it to the max.
“We need to find the heart to continue, somehow.” Baldur gazes around us all, me last. “That’s what we need to resume our journey through all of this.”
“How do we find heart when we’re living in times so heartless?” It’s Laerke who surprises me now, as she gives an exhausted sigh. “What I wouldn’t give for some good EDM right now, to dance my ass off and forget all this.”
“EDM I can do. Hang on.” Strom’s on it, as he suddenly goes to a music player on the wall and fires it up. In two shakes, he’s got a playlist going that’s all heavy bass beat, catchy house melodic dance lines and old school techno fills.
As he waltzes back, hauling Laerke up out of her chair by her hands, then me, I have to laugh, always amused as shit by Strom’s antics, and the way he so effortlessly gets the party started.
We rock, we sway; we move to the music now as we dance to the drumming bass beats. Everyone is up and dancing now, even Bjorn, as he moves in on me with Strom to relieve our stress together, and just be in something simple for the moment.
And it’s everything I need to get out of my head, as my inner drakaina takes all that music and rolls around in it, like a cat.
Even my black drake sways with the music, its ineffable nature charmed like a cobra as I start to heat up now, grinding on Strom and Bjorn in my little plum cocktail dress.
It’s such a relief that when Strom unbuckles his slacks, then kicks them off, leaving only silky crimson briefs behind, I laugh.
“What? Let’s make it a pants-off-dance-off!” Strom moves back to me, grinding on me once more as Bjorn backs up my rear. Laerke is dancing with Mikkel and grinding on Baldur, and I really don’t mind, as we all begin to laugh and sway now, getting into the feel of things.
My inner drakaina begins to restore as I revel in the music and my mates. I remember what fun is now; I indulge in playfulness as Strom spins me right into Mikkel and Baldur’s arms, away from him and Bjorn.
Mikkel and I are kissing, and I don’t know how it happened. But as Baldur cinches in close to my back, moving a hand down to rub my clit through my dress, while Mikkel eats his wicked kiss into my lips, I feel that great big Ouroboros in the Void begin to braid between all of us.
It’s still far away, nothing close enough to glean power from yet. I feel it like an echo, though, coming closer as we dance and sway, and revel in the oncoming night.
Little curls of our bright etheric fire manifest all around us now, as Mikkel claims my lips and Baldur kisses my neck, even Bjorn and Strom stepping in now to be a part of it.
As Bjorn steps to Baldur’s side, I feel how Baldur reaches out with his free hand, netting Bjorn around the neck. Bjorn has only a small growl of protest now as Baldur kisses him, hard.
The rest of it, entirely heat.
As if Baldur kissing Bjorn unleashed a floodgate for us, Mikkel and Strom kiss wickedly now, and with obliterating purpose, as Mikkel presses hard to me. I reach out, seizing Strom’s crotch, and he gives a delicious moan, as Mikkel bites his lower lip.
All my drakes break from each other now, turning their kisses upon me as mouths fevered with pleasure kiss my lips, both sides of my neck, and my nape.
Someone pinches and rolls my nipples through my dress as someone else reaches under my mini-dress to stroke my labia and ass, and I fall into their arms, surrendering to my mates.
But then I feel a sad stare, as if from far away. It’s Laerke, standing by herself, so alone as my drakes and I canoodle to the heavy bass beat. She looks so bereft, so tired and exhausted all by herself as she just stands there, wooden and watching us, that my heat with my drakes breaks.
Suddenly, I want nothing more than to help my sister-in-arms.
Who has no arms to hold her in the night.
“Laerke. How can we help?” I go to her now, removing myself from my drakes so I can extend both my hands to her. As I take up her dangling hands, I feel how leaden they are. She gives me the saddest smile I’ve ever seen, despite our celebrating being alive right now.
Heartbroken and bereft as she watches us.
“I’m touched, Rikyava. Really, I am.” Laerke’s voice is soft now as I rest our foreheads together in this moment. “But my woes and sorrows are not for your Bloodbond to solve. You know as well as I, that I’m not one of your drakes. And I never will be.”
“Still. There has to be something we can do. You’re family,” I protest now, squeezing her hands and making her look up.
“You can’t heal the wounds inside me, drakaina,” Laerke says chidingly now, but also sweetly, as she squeezes my hands back.
My drakes have joined us, moving around Laerke and me as we stand together.
Mikkel wraps an arm around his sister, and so does Strom.
Her sigh is the worst thing I’ve ever heard as she looks up at Strom and gives a wry smile.
And I suddenly recall Laerke once found love—and had it ripped away.
By our most horrible enemy’s henchwoman, Alfhild Fey.