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Thank fuck not one of them was looking her way. Except Nithe, and she was totally on board the non-stop train to pound town. Destination: Nithe’s magnificent cock.
One final look around, and her feet moved forward over the threshold of the gates. Once more into the lion’s den? Fingers crossed they came out again.
Chapter 23
The moment they crossed the threshold, the bonds around his arms and chest disappeared and his power surged through him. The cuff around his wrist fell with a clatter to the stones on which they stood. His dragon barreled forward to claim his freedom, too long had it been denied him.
He pushed Jezzie away, knocking her into the arms of the male who smelled like kin, relieved when he caught her as she toppled backwards. His dragon chuffed at her indignant snort, and the way she shrugged off the other male’s hold. More so when she turned those beautiful gray eyes of hers his way, awe shining bright as she gazed up at his towering dragon form.
Dark green scales covered his massive body. His eyes shone like gold with black slit pupils, from his large dragon head. A head as large as two men. His feathered, leather wings of pure gold unfurled briefly before tucking in close to his body. A spiked tail cheekily flicked around to gently stroke Jezzie’s thigh, dipping between her legs and lifting her slightly from the ground.
Gaining control after so long without a shift took longer than normal. As Nithe struggled he felt a hand touch his snout, and he damn near went cross-eyed trying to get a good look at who it was. He inhaled deeply and the scent of an unbonded male dragon filled his airway. The faintly familiar scent of family grew stronger, and he eyed the stranger shrewdly.
“You smell like I should know you, lad,” his dragon voice intoned. Full of bass and the wisdom of the ancient ones.
“I should, cousin, Even if I am a fair few years older than you. I recognize kin when I smell them. Aunt Alentia’s boy? Or Aunt Verina, maybe?” the dark haired dragon inquired.
“Close, but I’m afraid we are a little more distant than that, Prince Thaddeus Drakenos, right?”
“Thad is fine, thanks.”
“Well, Thad, your uncle, Vasillis, was technically my grandfather. I say it that way because he never actually acknowledged me as such, and immediately sent my mother away for a sudden betrothal in Cathair an óir, when he realized she was pregnant.”
“You mean to tell me someone actually ended up sleeping with that creepy fucker and reproduced? No offense.” Thad appeared genuinely shocked. “Though, your accent makes sense now.”
Nithe didn’t really know much about his grandfather, but what he did know really didn’t endear the old guy to his grandson.
“Apparently, from what little my mother told me, it wasn’t really her choice. In much the same way your tenure here was not yours.”
“Well, Nithe, my cousin, my kin, shift back and let us head in. What say you?”
“I think I may be stuck,” Nithe uttered beneath his breath. “It’s been a while since my last shift.” His last word drifted off into silence.
“As your rightful king, I command you, Nitierien Kenacdrath, to shift.” Still his body resisted, fought to remain in the form it had long been denied, despite the willingness of his mind, and of his dragon too.
“SHIFT! NOW!”
Every ounce of Thaddeus’s alpha power filled the air around them at his roar. Even his friends visibly shuddered, as if they waged some inner battle with their other side.
“Please, Ni. I need you to shift so we can go inside, eat, and snuggle in a nice soft bed. Do you really want me going in there on my own with these assholes?” Her soft voice drifted toward him. He felt his scales shudder with pleasure as his body morphed back into that of a man and the strain from trying to shift turned to relief.
Jezzie sauntered toward him, tapped Thad on the shoulder, and hip bumped him out of the way.
“You boys better have some decent food in there,” she said, as she indicated the palatial building beyond the grotesque walls painted in various shades of red with the blood of who knows how many species. But it was palatial none-the-less. “Because, if not, I will seriously kick all your asses.”
“Why are women always so cranky when they’re hungry?” The one obsessed with some game whispered to Novarian.
He was totally looking for an ass kicking it seemed. Not from him though. Jezzie’s back stiffened, her head cocked to the side.
“Nithe, honey, please remind me, if I get desperately hungry, that asshole is the first on my list of fuckers to eat.”
She turned and gave him a wicked smile, then looked past him to the male in question and licked her slightly elongated upper cuspids. He still had so much to learn about the woman who already owned his soul, it was a good thing he had an eternity to learn it all. At least, he hoped he did. Stepping through the double front doors his introspection came to a screeching halt, and so too did Jezzie.
From the outside the formidable facade was a terrifying representation of the realm it stood within. Blood, gore, death, and nightmare endings. On the inside though, oh, it got so much worse. The place looked like a bloody high-end 18th century french whorehouse crossed with a strip club. Topless gorgons slithered through the foyer, in and out of rooms, up and down the gilded grand staircase. So many bare breasts, and yet not a single set came close to matching the perfection of Jezzie’s. Damn, his woman was blessed with perfect curves. Which reminded him . . .
“So, I’m your man, am I, precious?” The teasing note in his voice thinly veiled the desperation with which his soul craved her affirmation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responded saucily with a cheeky wink. Her hand slipped out of his, she quickly slapped his ass before she pushed through the other men, and twirled like a badass warrior princess under the crystal chandelier, with not a single fuck to give.
