The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens, Book 1

The rest of the day passed in a haze of terror and anxiety. I refused any food, refused to go on a walk with Georg, and screamed at Benedict any time he showed his face. It turned out the second locked door was a passageway to his quarters. I was insulted it was locked my way but not his.

Eventually, he appeared through his door in our conjoined sitting area, his eyes assessing me immediately. “Get dressed and ready for dinner. I have other things to attend to.”

“I most certainly will not!” I roared, not proud at shouting like a child.

His dark eyes narrowed. “If you do not get ready and treat these two drakens with respect, I’ll . . . I’ll take you back to Crullfed.”

My jaw dropped, incensed he would use the only weapon I’d allowed him against me. “You wouldn’t!” I gasped.

He studied me intently, his face unmoving. “Will you get dressed and prepared for dinner on your own?”

My eyes flicked to the open passage that led to his rooms from our joined parlor. In my mind, I imagined stomping into them and wreaking havoc. It would feel amazing but wouldn’t exactly endear me to him.

Frustrated, I turned on my heel and stalked back to my bedroom to change. Benedict gave an indignant huff and left.

Throwing the doors to my wardrobe wide, I tried to find something respectable, but my hopes weren’t high. Georg had already appeared earlier with a replacement for my traveling cloak, though I’d been told in no uncertain terms that it was not for dinner. I was only to wear it when I was cold and not to hide myself.

I shook my head, trying to focus. The outfit (and cloak) I had worn earlier was ruined by Brogen’s blood and claws, so I’d have to find another. Sighing in defeat, I pulled a deep emerald gown out of the closet, thankful it would at least fall past my ankles. Some of the dresses in there seemed hardly large enough to wipe one’s nose with, let alone use as clothing. I shimmied uncomfortably into the sheer silk garment, pulling the two thick straps over my shoulders. The dress left my shoulders bare for all the world to see, but at least it vaguely covered my midriff.

“Can I get anything for you, miss?” Georg waited patiently outside, his smile genuine.

I smiled at him, realizing he was probably my only reliable ally in this entire fortress. “Yes, actually. Call me Wren.”

His grin was dazzling.

Dinner time came, and I couldn’t stop shaking. I knew the parlor was literally unchanged from earlier, but my mouth dried, and the walls closed in. Soon, I would meet the two drakens I had chosen. Would they be gruff and irritable like Benedict? Rough and unsympathetic like Brogen? Or lewd like D’Arcy?

I stood awkwardly in the sitting room, unable to stop pacing. Every few seconds or so I shot the blank stone wall uneasy glances, knowing that at any moment the two drakens who’d won me would appear. I tried to console myself, reminding my anxious brain that these two were not like Brogen. They’d been calm under pressure, and not mindless beasts slashing and tearing at one another like some of the other drakens.

A rumble came from the wall, and I jumped back, putting several of the chairs between me and the passageway. It was time already? My eyes scanned the food, set minutes earlier, and I grabbed another knife. I didn’t bother hiding it as I clenched it in my fist. If these drakens thought I’d just lay down and let them take me, they had a painful reckoning coming. Voices filtered in from the hall, and I stood and backed up against the far wall. After a moment, Georg appeared with the two winners in tow.

The redhead immediately turned his gaze towards me, his eyes widening as he took in my aggressive stance. The other one simply stopped where he was, his mouth agape. Georg gave them a formal bow, and I pleaded with my eyes for him to stay. He gave me an apologetic shrug and backed out of the passageway, sealing it shut behind him.

“This is where they hid you. Very clever,” the redhead offered, deflecting attention from both of us by looking around the room with interest.

I blinked. Two seconds in and he was already acting much like Benedict had when we first met. Careful. Protective. I took the opportunity to study him closely.

In his human form, his red hair went past his shoulders, tied back in a loose ponytail with a simple leather cord. He had a small beard and kind, green eyes in addition to a large, angular nose and a wide forehead. He gave a formal bow like Georg’s. I hoped my immediate impressions of him were correct.

“It is an honor to meet you, Wren. I am Kieran.”

I didn’t move, wanting to trust him but still wary. Kieran glanced to his left, realizing his companion had yet to follow his example. Kieran’s fist flew out and smacked the other draken in his stomach.

The man doubled over coughing but turned it smoothly into a bow. “Er, yes. A pleasure. Sorry, I’m Ronan.”

Ronan was slightly smaller in stature than Kieran. His brown hair was so dark it was nearly black, and it was cut short. His golden eyes had only a tinge of brown to them. His nose was more delicate than Kieran’s, though sharp cheekbones gave him a slightly predatory, hungry look. Raw intelligence sparkled in his eyes, and I wondered if his keen interest in me was personal, or more academic. Or both.

They straightened together and studied me in anticipation. I gripped the knife, not moving. It appeared they were waiting for a cue from me. I didn’t know what to do or what they expected from me. My mind kept playing scenes from the breeding house of women being grabbed by the men and dragged upstairs to a room. The sounds that would come after. Then the crying. Sobbing. My hands started shaking.

“Now you’ve done it. You’ve scared her with your staring,” remarked Kieran. He walloped Ronan around his ears, but Ronan snarled and snapped back, kicking Kieran in the knee. They both fell to the floor, scuffling. After a few growls and tussling, Kieran popped back up, his nose bloody and off-center. I blinked, their impromptu fight effectively snapping my mind out of its catastrophizing.

I watched with wide eyes as his wound healed in front of me, the nose snapping back into place with an audible pop as he wiped the blood away. He hauled Ronan to his feet as the smaller draken shook out his leg. Drakens must be like lykos and vampyres with quick healing abilities. That would have certainly come in handy in the breeding house.

“Sorry about that! Dominance fights are a common occurrence here, though not usually with us. This one understands his place.” Kieran jerked a thumb at Ronan, who growled but didn’t correct him.

They both stood there awkwardly, waiting for me to make the first move. They’d be waiting all night.

“Shall we?” Kieran tentatively gestured at the food. He sat around the loaded table and began serving himself. He shot Ronan an uneasy glance, and the other draken followed, struggling to keep his eyes off me.

I’d have to watch him. The two men ate and chatted for all the world, ignoring my presence. After a bit, my muscles sagged, tired from being tense for so long. Clearly, these men weren’t going to attack me like Brogen did. I took a step towards the food but stopped, studying the knife I held.

“Hold onto it if it makes you feel better, smart to always stay armed in unknown situations,” Kieran talked around a large roll in his mouth, not even glancing up at me.

I sat down and snatched a plate and a small bit of chicken.

“Good on you for getting Brogen when we couldn’t. That lowlife deserved it.”

I froze, my eyes flicking to Kieran’s. “T-Thanks.”

Kieran wiped his mouth, regarding me seriously as I started eating. “I apologize if Brogen has tainted your opinion of drakens. Both of us are ecstatic just to be here, and you can expect nothing except stimulating conversation and perhaps a dessert tart if that’s your preference. Drakens do not force females, Brogen’s appalling instincts aside.”

Ronan shot another nervous glance at me. I swallowed, some of my fear dissipating. “Benedict gave the impression that—’

Kieran threw his napkin down, scoffing. “Benedict doesn’t always have . . . What’s the word, Ronan?” He snapped his fingers.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Tact?”

“Yes, that! He spends all his time outside the mountain and grows to expect the worst of us. A few hundred years ago, he’d have been correct; we’d have jumped you the moment you walked in. Centuries of self-control have mellowed us somewhat. Our inner animals are sensing the species is likely lost.”

“But Brogen—”

Kieran continued, “Most of us. You should always still be wary. It’s the draken instincts. They scream at us constantly to find our mates and start our families. Some of us can tune it out. Others can’t. It’s one of the reasons so few of us are left, we start turning on each other. That’s Benedict’s main job: to keep us in line.”

I added what appeared to be poached hare to my plate, along with a few potatoes. Companionable silence fell, and I loathed to break it. At least my stomach was able to keep down what I had put in it so far.

Kieran shot a look at Ronan, who nodded. “May we give you a gift?”

I wiped my hands on my napkin. “I suppose.”

Kieran unhooked something from his belt and so did Ronan. My hands twitched as they set down a pair of glittering, jeweled daggers on the table. The blades were razor sharp, and the handles were carved from what looked like bone. It wasn’t though, was it?

“The blade was fashioned from a demon spine. Nasty things, but this knife will repel them from you and hurt twice as much when you get a hit in. I hear you like your knives,” Kieran said.

I allowed myself a smirk in his direction as I ran one finger down the hard, white surface of the blade, unsure how to act. It was hardly an appropriate gift for any woman, but it was perfect for me. It was hard to imagine being anything other than a slave or a servant, but a slave certainly wouldn’t own anything as deadly and awe-inspiring as this.

“They’re beautiful. . . . ” I murmured.

“More deadly than they are pretty to look at,” Ronan interjected, smiling widely.

I picked up the smaller one, holding it in my hand.

“Would you like to learn how to use one properly?” Kieran asked tentatively.

“Not that your way wasn’t effective with Brogen,” he amended quickly. “It just lacked a bit of form.”

I laughed, then choked it back. I couldn’t help but be suspicious. After all, no one was ever kind without wanting something else in return. “Why would you help me?”

Kieran seemed genuinely confused and a bit hurt by my defensiveness. “Why wouldn’t we? It would hardly do our species any good if you weren’t able to defend yourself. Besides, you picked us, and that is something we appreciate. It is a great honor to be chosen as your companions. Being around a female reminds me of home.” His eyes went far away, and I glanced down to the knife, turning it over and admiring the way the jewels glinted.

“How long ago did it all happen?”

Ronan sighed. “Oh . . . probably close to seven hundred years by now.”

“Six hundred and eighty-eight,” Kieran corrected, and my jaw dropped.

“Wait, you’re all that old?” I couldn’t decide how to feel about that.

“It’s part of the protection enchantments on our race, though some call it a curse. Until we find the . . . er, that is, until the curse is lifted, we will not die naturally. Of course, immortality seems hardly an attractive option when you’re stuck inside a hunk of rock for centuries on end.”

I grimaced. That did sound awful. “Why are you all trapped here exactly? That doesn’t seem fair.”

Kieran sighed, but Ronan leaned forward, anger in his eyes. “Of course, it isn’t fair! Neither was winning a war by committing genocide, but here we are—’

“Enough! Benedict will skewer us if we give away all our secrets!” Kieran clapped his hands together, and I pouted.

Kieran stood, wiping his hands on his thighs and Ronan sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We were promised the entirety of the evening, but I think it best if we leave you to rest,” Kieran said. “Again, we thank you for your hospitality and for choosing us. We can meet later, and try out those knives?”

Ronan stood with him, and suddenly I didn’t want them to leave. If they did, I’d be alone in these large rooms again with nothing to distract me from the thoughts of Brogen’s blood staining my body or of the cold gleam in Benedict’s eyes when I begged him not to give me away. It was pure luck these two hadn’t hurt me, and it felt instinctual to want them around me. These two drakens could protect me.

“Wait!” They paused, fierce interest in their eyes. “I just . . . Please stay longer.”

Kieran’s eyes softened. “You’re very young for a human, aren’t you? Have you been with a human male before?”

I blushed hotly, not expecting this turn in the conversation. You didn’t just ask someone that! “No! I mean, of course not. We are encouraged to stay as pure as possible, since it makes us worth more at auction. This . . . everything about this seems so foreign.”

Ronan’s face twisted in anger. “You grew up in one of the breeding manors?”

I nodded, unsure why this angered him. It was better than growing up in the wild, wasn’t it? I’d have been dead before I reached adulthood.

Kieran scoffed. “Wren, you need to understand that our species is in crisis. You could have any man here that you wanted or all of them at the same time.” His gaze grew contemplative.

“Probably best to do it in small groups though, now that I think about it.” I choked, and they gave me matching grins.

“I take it things are very different in human culture—” Ronan said.

Kieran punched him in the gut, and Ronan shut up.

“The only one in charge of your body now is you,” Kieran began, his tone no-nonsense. “No matter what D’Arcy says, no matter what Benedict says, if you don’t want anyone here, do not submit.”

My eyes lifted to Kieran’s patient, green ones.

“What about your species? Isn’t the whole point to . . . to have babies?” I could barely say it without blushing, my eyes going to the floor in embarrassment.

Kieran closed the distance between us, and I didn’t flinch away as he kneeled in front of me, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ears. This close, I could see the telltale shimmer of scales hiding just beneath the skin of his human form. Kieran grasped my hand, his calloused fingers tracing a gentle pattern against my palm. He was the first draken to be truly kind to me.

“We’re not sure if it’s possible for a human to birth drakens. You are, essentially, a last resort experiment.” He paused, grinning again. “This will sound incredibly self-serving, but I would be willing to help you learn about being with a man. That is, both of us would.”

I blushed again, something that amused them to no end. The no-nonsense way they approached everything was refreshing but also terrifying.

“May I kiss you?” He hovered above me, demanding or expecting nothing. That was what made me consider it; he had asked. “Here, hold the dagger if it helps, and you can stab me through the heart if I get too fresh.”

I shot a dubious glance at Ronan, who waved my concerns away. “He’d heal faster than he’d bleed out, no worries.”

Leaving the knives on the table, I decided to trust him. My index finger softly touched his lips, which were even softer than mine. He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as though my touch was overwhelming. It felt odd to have this sense of power over a male, and I couldn’t help but wonder: what would it be like to kiss him? The men in the breeding house didn’t kiss. That wasn’t how children were made. Was that what Kieran wanted to show me?

His fingers ran a soothing pattern down my forearm, and a delightful shiver ran through my body. My thoughts were as foreign as the delicious tingling. I was different now; a woman who had killed; a woman who wanted to learn more about what went on between men and women at the breeding house. The scared, frightened girl who’d been abducted was dead.

She’d died with Brogen, bleeding out on the floor to be forgotten and disposed of. No more would I be constantly frightened, letting other people tell me what to do. Things were different now. I could protect myself. It wasn’t only allowed but encouraged by Benedict. One of the few things he’d encouraged me to do.

It was jarring, especially when I realized I wanted to protect myself. I hesitated to give Benedict the full credit, but his words kept ringing in my ears.

“No one will do anything against your will. Remember that.”

I clutched onto those words like a mantra, repeating them over and over again inside my head. I was allowed to say no. I was allowed to make my own choices. These were basic rights that those above me enjoyed every moment.

No! I needed to stop thinking like that. No one was above me, were they? Anyone in this fortress could kill me in an instant, but I knew with certainty they wouldn’t. Benedict was surly and disagreeable, but he’d made it clear we were equals. He would protect me. I was important, even if it was for reasons I didn’t entirely agree with.

I’d been a slave in the past because I’d accepted being one. Because the situation I was in demanded I submit to survive. I wasn’t there anymore The thought filled me with despair at the past but hope for the future.

Who could I be if I could choose? I was sick to death of fear, and how it had controlled me my entire life. What would it be like to choose freedom? To choose the drakens? To choose as many men as possible that would give themselves to me. It was a terrifying thought but so incredibly liberating.

My fingers continued to explore Kieran’s face, so different from D’Arcy’s and Benedict’s. Kieran was covered by scars, and his skin hot, yet smooth under my fingertips. I wondered what his scales felt like.

“Kiss me?” I asked, unsure but curious, no longer afraid.

My words were a trigger, and suddenly my face was in his hands as he kissed me deeply, stirring to life a sleeping desire within my chest I hadn’t even been aware of. Wet, but also wonderful. Kieran broke away quickly, moving his lips over my face, then my neck and shoulders. His fangs grazed the side of my throat as Ronan watched carefully.

A fire blazed in Kieran’s eyes, and he snarled as Ronan took a step towards us.

Ronan backed off, and Kieran assaulted my mouth. My lips stung as he bit down hard though he didn’t break the skin. I backed away, swatting him none-too-gently on the face. Kieran stopped and shook his head. His eyes cleared, and he sighed.

“Do I need to fetch a knife?” I asked innocently.

The lingering tension broke, and he laughed, his eyes alight in challenge.

“Let me try again,” he begged.

Kieran’s large hands cupped my face, his lips much gentler this time. I closed my eyes as he delved into my mouth, curious and firm, but without the desperate hunger he previously had. When his tongue quested further, I opened my mouth, allowing him in. My soul was wide open as he pressed desperately against me. He groaned, and then with great reluctance, he pulled away.

My shoulders heaved in disappointment, an odd tingling racing down my spine. I turned to Ronan. I needed more.

“Would . . . would you like a kiss as well? Since you’re both winners?”

Kieran’s kiss had awoken something within me, an itch that desperately needed to be scratched. Would it be the same as Kieran?

Ronan nodded wordlessly, and then was in front of me. His arms ghosted over my bare shoulders, then cupped my face tenderly.

“We are all old enough to remember that there were mates and families before, but we have forgotten how it felt. . . . ” His voice was full of awe and reverence.

His hands ran lightly through my hair, and I closed my eyes. His lips brushed lightly against mine, but more roughly than Kieran had. I took a deep breath and relaxed into him. His kiss became more insistent, and I decided to let go of my fears and just feel. He moaned, one hand squeezing the side of my neck. His claws slid out from his nailbeds, leaving tiny marks against my skin. I liked it. I craved it. And I wanted more. Would he squeeze my neck harder? My fingers traced his lips, and he drew one into his mouth, the pads of my finger sliding underneath a fang.

“Like I said, kinky siren.”

I jerked, jumping back from Ronan as Benedict strolled into the room. I hissed in pain as Ronan’s fang bit down on my finger, and I snatched it back to my chest. Blood trailed down my hand, and when I looked up the three of them were frozen, eyes trained on the blood.

“What—’

Benedict slammed into Ronan, knocking him to the floor as he pounced directly at me. I grabbed the knives, holding them up in my uninjured hand as Kieran eyed me warily.

“You going to jump me too?” I asked.

He shook his head frantically back and forth, but it was clear he was fighting off whatever his instincts were telling him.

“Get out!” Benedict roared, and both practically tripped over each other as they scrambled for the hallway. Benedict growled until they left, then grunted at nothing. He gestured for me to come over. “Let me see.”

Still afraid, I gripped the knife tighter, and backed away.

He growled. “You hardly tempt me. Let me see.”

His cruel remarks sapped my will to fight, and I took a tentative step forward. He snatched my hand, examining it critically. I wanted to say something smart, to test the boundaries of my freedom here.

“You could be less rude about it,” I sniped, my pulse racing at my own defiance.

He frowned at me, then bent down to examine my finger without another word. “The wound is deeper than I thought but not terrible. Outside the mountain you would likely need stitches.”

I snorted. Stitches weren’t wasted on slaves. His purple eyes lifted to mine, no anger present at my outburst. He meant it. I could speak freely here.

“Don’t you have any more of those healing vials of yours?” I asked instead, aiming for a more polite tone.

“You drank them all,” he replied, ignoring my tone. “And unless you want to drink any more of my blood fresh from the source, hold still.”

My face twisted in horror and realization. Was that what he had given me to drink last night to heal my concussion, and my back before that? His blood? The corners of his lips lifted, and I stonily met his gaze.

“That’s what I thought.” He brought my hand to his face, and without warning licked the entire length of the wound on my finger.

I grimaced in pain and shock, but just as quickly a dull numbness spread through my body, and I sighed in relief. His tongue felt hot and rough against my skin, and I stared at the floor to hide my blush. His face changed as my blood met his lips, and it was an expression of such bafflement that I jerked my hand away, only half healed.

“That bad, huh?” He scowled at me and seized me around the waist, pulling me back.

“I thought you hated me. Why bother healing me at all?”

An annoyed expression crossed his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. “If you’d rather heal the human way, be my guest. We have no medicines or any other such nonsense, so it’s a gamble if you end up dying from infection or not.”

“You’re horrible,” I shot back.

His grip around my waist tightened. “You’ve never tasted horrible. Now stand there, shut up, and let me lick you.”

He drew my finger into his mouth again, and I shivered at the sensation. It was impossible not to compare it to Ronan when the positions were almost exactly the same. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and a delightful tingle raced straight to the area between my legs. I shoved it firmly down, refusing to analyze it. After a moment, he pulled away with some effort, and I could breathe again.

He said, “There.”

I stood in awe of the unblemished skin across my finger.

“T-thank you,” I mumbled as he rolled his eyes and began unstrapping something from around his thigh.

He slammed the small bit of leather onto the table. “At least put your daggers in these sheaths so we don’t have a repeat performance.”

His sudden anger didn’t make any sense, so I latched onto the only thing that did.

“You can’t be jealous. You’ve been nasty this whole time until you healed me.”

I didn’t even see him move; one moment he was glaring at me, the next he was in my face, nose to nose. I took a step back, but his large hands held me tightly.

“I don’t do jealousy.” His eyes were hard chips of purple ice. “Anything I want, I simply take.”

He backed away, and I tried in vain to slow the rapid thudding of my heart against my chest. So that’s how it was going to be? I didn’t think so.

I wasn’t a slave anymore.

“Is that why you took me then?” I questioned, my heart thudding in my chest. “Because you wanted me?”

This was it—the truth behind everything. A heavy blanket of tension and anticipation descended between us as I waited for his answer with bated breath. After a long moment, he gave me a mock bow.

“Until tomorrow, siren.”

He went through the second door on the right, locking it behind him. I spent the rest of the night with my knives, trying to hit a particular crack in the stone wall and imagining it was Benedict’s face.