The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens, Book 1

The Lost Siren: Chapter 15



Benedict was gone before I woke the next morning, though it was probably for the best. I had hoped maybe to get a moment to speak with him, but I knew it was unlikely. He clearly was still furious over Bair, not that I blamed him.

As I ate breakfast next to a watchful Ronan, I realized that the only way to get Benedict to trust me would be to prove myself in some way to him. What good was having important information if no one would believe you? I had to come up with a plan.

“Ronan? Could you get D’Arcy for me?”

His head shot up, pleased to be able to do something for me but suspicious of my reasons.

“I suppose. Why?”

Honesty was the best policy, right? “I need to talk to him about Benedict.”

Ronan’s face went stony, but he huffed and walked through the stone passageway. I finished up my breakfast in relative silence, happy to finally have a normal appetite. I finished my eggs, a potato, and a few slices of toast before Ronan returned, D’Arcy in tow.

“Is it alright if this is a private conversation?”

Ronan seemed hurt for only a fraction of a second before he wiped it away.

“Of course.”

He left through the still opened passage, and D’Arcy imperiously sat himself on the best chair in the room. He helped himself to a cup of tea and crossed his legs. Only after he had taken a few sips did he finally turn his gaze to me. He wore a fur pelt that covered his shoulders and had the stuffed wolfen head on his back. Disgusting. He was wearing this on purpose. His eyes challenged me, daring me to say something.

“A private word with Wren. To what do I owe the honor?”

I tapped my fingers against the armrest of my chair, eyes narrowing. “I’d like you to start the games again. Specifically, something that tests loyalty.

D’Arcy’s face brightened in interest. “May I ask why—’

“You may not,” I cut in. “Besides, what is wrong with me making sure the king’s subjects are completely loyal?”

D’Arcy’s entire demeanor changed to one of extreme caution. It would have been humorous had the situation not been so serious. I nonchalantly picked up another sugar cube and added it to my tea, stirring vigorously. He shifted and opened his mouth.

“I can assure you all drakens have the utmost loyalty to our king, unlike a few humans I have come across.”

I smiled, but it was a brittle and dangerous thing. “Then arranging such a challenge will be of no trouble to you. If I die during it, all the better, right?”

D’Arcy sat back in his chair, considering me in a new light. “You plan to compete? Benedict may hate you, but he still won’t let you die. Draken instincts are so utterly predictable at times. Going through the trouble of making it possible would be dreadfully difficult.”

“But for my death you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” I kept my face calm, but my palms began to sweat. His eyes were calculating.

“And what could you do for me in the meantime? If I go to such trouble, I want it to be worth my investment.” His finger trailed lasciviously around the edge of his teacup, his eyes boring into mine. His voice was a dark whisper in the air. “I think you know what I’d like.”

I forced myself to relax as if I were considering it. He smirked, and it was so different from Benedict’s that I felt ill. Benedict’s smirk was the confidence of a leader, whereas D’Arcy’s was simply arrogant. He had no idea what I was planning.

“How about you simply come when I call, like the pet you are,” he replied, unbothered.

I caught the greedy glint in his eyes and swallowed heavily. Every instinct inside of me screamed, but I needed him. “Fine.”

I stood, our meeting over. “The task will be tomorrow then?

He held up one finger, shaking it delicately at me. “And ruin my fun before it’s begun? I think not.”

D’Arcy rose from his chair, his eyes running up and down the length of my body. I made sure to wear one of the sheer dresses today, making sure only the barest essentials were covered beneath the flimsy gauze. I wasn’t proud of it, but I would do what was needed. He found what he was looking for, a cruel grin tweaking the corners of his mouth.

“Three days,” D’Arcy sneered.

I turned to dismiss him, but he was quicker. One hand shot up and grabbed my jaw in a vice grip, forcing my face to his. I tried to relax or (at the very least) not fight him. It was difficult, images of Bair bleeding out flashed before my eyes.

He pulled my bottom lip with his teeth, his fangs too close for comfort. He drew away quickly as someone growled from behind me.

“Am I interrupting?”

I went white as Benedict’s frame filled the passageway.

D’Arcy practically beamed at him, and I wanted to smack the smirk from his face so badly. How was it possible Sabien was his son instead of Bair? The uncle and nephew were too alike for my own tastes.

D’Arcy gave a mild bow. “Not at all. Just negotiating for the next round of the games.”

He dropped me and strode past Benedict as though he were the king. Benedict slammed the passageway shut behind him. We stood in front of each other, the tension thick and heavy.

“Kieran guilted me into spending time with you, but I see it appears to be unnecessary. Therefore, this will be quick, and I certainly won’t enjoy it. My kingdom won’t suffer because I’m not physically at my best.”

“What—”

He seized me around the waist with one hand, flipping me around so my back was against his broad chest. He pushed me down across a chair, and before I could get a word out, he pushed against my buttocks. My body roared in immediate approval, arousal flooding my core with wetness in greedy anticipation. His hands easily tore the flimsy gauze aside, and with a quick adjustment, he thrust straight into me from behind. I gasped, more in surprise than pain. His hands dug mercilessly into my hips, holding me down as he moved rhythmically behind me.

I hated how much I loved the feel of him inside me, he had a dark roughness to him that Kieran and Ronan didn’t, but I craved it. I relaxed against him, meeting his thrusts as a warm, delicious heat spread from my core to the rest of my body.

He made a grunting sound, and then his pace increased. I kept up with him, sinking into the sensations of his flesh slapping against mine. His hand tangled in my hair and pulled, arching my back towards him even as the other held me hard in place. He bit down on the back of my neck and I lost it, my orgasm powerful as my inner walls clenched down hard around him. He groaned his own release, his teeth still buried in my neck. The vibrations of his voice rumbled against my skin, and we both rode the last waves of our own pleasure together.

Then he let go, dropping me to land on my stomach across the chair. A stinging pain on the back of my neck had me wince, and I tentatively felt two large fang marks with my fingers. That asshole! In a way though, the pain was proper punishment for what he caught me doing with D’Arcy, and what I planned to do. In a way, I was becoming every bit the calculating, little whore he accused me of being. I focused on levelling out my breathing and ignoring the two marks on my neck that throbbed in agony the closer he got.

“What do you want now? You got what you wanted,” I spit at him.

He grabbed my arm and spun me around. The rings under his eyes were gone, and the edges of exhaustion that had lingered around him the past week were nowhere to be found. “Let’s be clear. I don’t want you.”

All the fight sputtered out of me. The pain from the fang marks traveled to my head, and I rubbed my temples. “Fine, yes, we all are very much aware of how you hate me and use me for nothing other than carnal pleasure. Any other breaking news you feel compelled to share?”

My nonchalant attitude irritated him, but I hurt too much to care.

“Give me one reason not to watch you bleed out on my floor the way you did to Bair,” he said.

I lifted my head, glancing at him. Fear would be easy. It would be familiar. But it wouldn’t fix any of the things irrevocably broken. “Again, I did it to save you. He’d made a deal with Severn to become king after you were dead. I never want to see you dead.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but then it was gone. Benedict reared back, his purple skin darkening as his claws and fangs slid out from beneath his skin.

“You’re lying! He’d never! Severn said you were just one of Crullfed’s agents, that you worked for—’

“Bair told Severn where the drakens are hiding! Didn’t Kieran mention that? Or did you stop listening and start throwing bodies into walls?”

Benedict went rigid, the light from the torches reflecting off his scales. My neck and head throbbed, but Benedict needed to believe me. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the safety of every draken hiding in this mountain.

“Look,” I began, my posture wilting, “you can’t stand me, and brought me here only because Severn told you to, but I’m not lying about this!”

His eyes were purple again, but they glared at me with mistrust.

I tried one more time. “Are you willing to risk the lives of every draken on this mountain on whether or not I’m lying?”

He twitched, gritting his teeth in anger. I knew he wouldn’t risk his people; they were the only thing he truly cared about. The part of my heart that hurt throbbed in time with my head and neck, and suddenly I’d give anything to have him care half as much about me as he did his drakens. Then the moment passed, and I just felt empty.

I snagged one of Domik’s maps and trudged over to my bed. “You should come to the games in a few days. I hear it will be quite a show.”

He stormed out without another word, and I cried myself to sleep, both my heart and body filled with pain.


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