Claiming the Dragon King

3

The portal opened into a forest unfamiliar to Ciara, one filled with ancient oaks.

The man behind her held tightly to her hair, jerking her back against him as she

tried to distance herself from his body. He barked out orders and pushed her to

the ground, following her down as he yanked on her wrist, assessing the damage

to her hands.

“Wren, heal her now,” he ordered sharply. “You fought well enough that you

should know not to grab on to a blade.”

“I fight well enough? You had a blade to my throat, what the f**k did you

expect? For me to kiss it?” she snapped.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Take me home,” she retorted angrily.

“I asked you a question,” he growled.

“Suck it, buttercup,” she clipped.

Hands grabbed hers, and she screamed as burning pain shot through her.

Tears filled her eyes, and then just as fast as it started, it ended. She yanked her hands away from him, finding them sealed; burned, but sealed.

“What the hell?” she cried as she stared at the red, angry scars. The man on

his knees pulled her against him as the other grabbed her hands again while she

struggled to keep him and his freaky s**t away from her wounded hands.

“Hold still,” the man at her back demanded. “Blane, f*****g do it already or

knock the b***h out.”

He lowered his tawny head to her hands and licked the burned flesh. Her

center erupted into firecrackers all exploding together, as if he was inside her

mind, touching her body instead of licking her hands. She examined his mouth

and then her hand as she yanked them away from him.

“Get that thing away from me!” she demanded.

“My mouth?” he laughed as electric blue eyes narrowed and observed her.

“Keep it to yourself,” she huffed as she elbowed the man behind her and

tried to get up.

“Wren, get me some rope for my little hellcat,” Blane ordered.

Ciara watched as Blane stood up with Wren, moving to the group who stood

off to the side, scrutinizing them. She slowly got to her feet and dusted off her

clothes as she stared down at her healed palms. What the hell used heat to treat

flesh? She wracked her brain until she realized they’d made a vital mistake.

They’d turned their backs on her. She twisted her head, looking at the small trail

that led deeper into the woods.

Her head slowly moved back to the group who were arguing over something

far enough away that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She turned

without giving it another thought and ran as fast as her feet would take her. Tree

branches snapped and broke beneath her feet. Branches slapped her in the face as

she tore through the woods, leaving the trail as the sound of rushing water met

her ears.

Distance; she needed it between her and her captors to figure out what to do.

Ciara cleared her mind and tried to sift, but nothing happened. What the heck?

She closed her eyes, focusing on her magic, only for nothing to happen, again.

No magic? Her eyes searched the sky, the area around her looking for any reason why she wouldn’t be able to use her magic. Her mind raced, her heart pounding

loudly in her ears as she forced herself to continue running. She pushed through

the forest into a clearing and spun around in a quick circle, stalling as wild

horses came into view. Really? Horses! The one thing in Faery she couldn’t ride.

She started forward, only to be taken to the ground. She slapped at him and

wrapped her legs around his waist, using the moves her brothers had taught her

for defense.

“Cease your struggles,” he demanded.

“You cannot expect a girl to just lounge about and let you take her, fucker,”

she snapped. She bucked her hips and rolled her body, only to end up straddled

above him. She was shocked it had worked and paused a moment too long. He

secured her hips with his hands and pushed her down on his c**k, which was

hard. “Stop that,” she whispered in surprise.

He rolled them, securing her with his weight as he captured her hands above

her head. His mouth lowered and hovered against hers as she threw her head

back, smashing it against the ground. His throaty laughter made her eyes narrow,

and before he guessed her move, she bit his lip, hard. He growled against her

mouth as she tasted the coppery tang of blood.

His breath fanned her lips, and she winced and groaned as his tongue pushed

into her mouth, dipping deep as it searched for hers. Her eyes opened wide as

something started to tighten in her core. She pushed at him as he leisurely

explored her mouth. He pulled his mouth from hers with a shocked look that

mirrored hers.

He straddled her as he lifted and stared down at her as if she’d grown another

head. Branches snapped behind them, and he turned his dark head, extended his

hand, and took what Wren had held out. He leaned over her, grabbing her wrists

and pulling them in front of her.

Ciara was lost in what had just happened. How the f**k did he get the upper

hand when she’d bit him? He got off of her and pulled her up until she was on

her feet, staring at him as if he’d turned into some creature from the depths of

the unknown. No one kissed her and lived, which meant no one kissed her, ever.

No one dared, not with who and what her brothers were.

“You kissed me, you son of a b***h,” she whispered in shock.

“And?” he snapped huskily.

“I’m the Princess of the Horde, no one touches me, ever,” she warned. “It is

forbidden.”

“You’re Fae, princess, you forget that part?” he snapped indifferently. “You

fuck to feed, and have a huge appetite, from what I’ve been told.”

“Surely it must have slipped my mind,” she replied icily as he pulled her by

the rope now binding her wrists.

“If you run again, I’ll do more than just kiss you,” he warned.

“Is that supposed to scare me? I’m Fae, remember?” she shot back at him

crisply.

His smirked sent anger pulsing through her. What was he if not Fae? Her

eyes roamed the forest, noting the trees moved with them. They followed them

with ancient eyes that sent a chill racing down Ciara’s spine. There were only a

few forests in Faery with creatures that used the trees to see. When they reached

the edge of the meadow, they paused.

“Get the horses ready, Wren. Fyra, shatter the portal. Klaus, you take the

bags and meet us on the other side of the forest, lead the scent to the Sandless

desert and then place the bags with our clothes and her blood on the horse and

send it through them. That will lead the hounds away from us long enough to

reach camp. Everyone else, mount up.”

Ciara watched him through her thick lashes as he commanded the men like a

general would an army. No one argued his plan, not one single person. He turned

his gaze back at her, and she glared as she lifted her shoulders and straightened

her spine.

“And her?” Fyra asked.

“She’ll ride with me,” he announced.

Fyra snorted and shook her head. Well, almost no one argued with him,

except her. Ciara growled as Blane yanked on the rope, pulling her closer to

where he stood as if she was a new pet. Heat enveloped her as their flesh

touched. She stood silently as he withdrew a cloak from a bag Fyra handed him.

She stiffened as he settled it on her shoulders and placed the hood over her head.

“Can’t have anyone getting back to your brother that you were seen with us,

now can we?”

“Go to hell,” she snapped icily as she pulled back from his heated touch.

“I’ve lived in hell long enough to feel comfortable there,” he mused as he

pulled back and grabbed her waist as he hoisted her into a saddle. Ciara’s heart

hit her stomach as the giant beast began to prance and paw the ground as it felt

her unease. Blane mounted behind her, calming the beast with a gentle rub and

soft encouragement that he whispered to it. “Calm down, Ciara. Your magic

won’t work here, none of it, so cease your struggles. This part of our world is

damaged, and that makes you weak,” he purred against her ear, and she turned,

immediately regretting it as her cheek touched his lips.

“I’m not weak, asshole, and how do you know that’s my name?” she asked

hesitantly. Magic didn’t work here? Impossible, and yet she couldn’t sift or wield

it. She once again cleared her mind, intending to sift away from him, but nothing

happened. Her throat tightened as fear wrapped its cold hands around her heart

in a vise.

“Because Ryder has one sister,” he answered softly. “I’ve heard a lot about

you, and what you are really like.”

“From what, rumors? I promise you, I’m way worse than what you heard,”

she seethed.

“You almost sound proud of it,” he uttered as he nuzzled her ear, pushing the

cloak away from her skin to touch her flesh as his breath fanned her nape,

sending swirls of heat rushing to her stomach. Confusion ignited, her mind

grasped on to what was happening, and she swallowed hard against it.

“I am, I worked hard to build my reputation,” she supplied sharply as her

hands struggled to find something to hold on to, only to end up holding onto one

of his legs. Powerful muscles bunched beneath his fingers as she forced her body

back against his.

“Scared?” he asked.

“Of you, never,” she said with a soft shake of her head. “I don’t like horses,

and they don’t like me either.”

“Smart creatures,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, Ciara. You’re no good to me

dead. I won’t let you fall. Tell me about your king.”

“You want to know about my king? He’ll be the one to kill you for taking

me. He doesn’t forgive those who trespass on his family or who intend to do his

babes harm.”

“I don’t plan to harm you or them, but him, him I plan to kill,” he growled

huskily as his hand wrapped around her waist, securing her against him. “Let’s

ride; we should make camp by dawn.” His call to the others sent shouts of

agreement and hooves pounding against the ground as they rushed forward.