A Lair So Primal by Zoey Ellis

13

Elora's ordination was stunning.

Staff from all of the lairs gathered once again, in the same way that they did for I’mya’s, except Elora looked specular. Of course, as her mate, Zendyor thought she was the most beautiful being in the world. No one could compete with her, no other woman, omega, or Goddess… no one. When he thought about it too much, he was furious that he didn’t follow his instincts sooner.

Zendyor was not willing to allow her to bear all her scales that covered her left arm and left breast right up to her neck where he'd bitten her, and she wasn’t keen on being so exposed either. So they chose an elegant white gown with a cuff at the wrist and a slim line of fabric connecting to her shoulder, the rest of her arm bare. Zendyor had to fuck her immediately when he saw her in it—she was devastatingly gorgeous.

The gown was designed by his staff, and her jewelry had been fashioned by a designer who used Yorgynel’s melted lumps of gold. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head and her grey eyes sparkled with excitement, turning soft whenever they looked at him. That was the bit he enjoyed the most.

The ordination was an exciting event, with everyone cheering as he and Elora stood on Yorgynel’s back in the middle of the valley; each lair's staff gathered along either side. His brothers hovered above them in the air, Khyros reciting the vows that Elora had to repeat and agree to in order to join the clan.

Everything went smoothly until Yorgynel became irritated about staying in the same position for so long. He reared up, ready to take flight and shoot through the air to work off his excess aggression. Zendyor forced him down using the Thrakondarian language to keep him in place, but obviously, Yorgynel fought him, as any dignified dragon would do, which wasn’t good for the smooth running of the event.

Elora simply knelt down and placed her hand on their dan askha’s neck, murmuring to him that it wouldn’t be long and then they could all fly together. Within their bond, a calm contentment seeped in and he settled, keeping his wings down and staying in place.

Of course, everyone watching adored this moment. After the ceremony Zendyor heard many said that Elora could tame the beast, both the man and the creature, and he couldn't deny that truth. She was perfect for him and perfect for Yorgynel. He was proud that the Goddesses chose to appear to her out of the three omegas who had mated into their clan.

He was still infuriated about the queen’s attack on his lair and his omega, but he was holding it at bay until the right time. Never before had he wanted to storm the South and risk everything for the chance to rip that woman to shreds, but he knew it wasn’t smart. He was the one always convincing his brothers of the need for a plan, but it was hard to rationalize such an insult. The queen considered herself equal to the dragorai and a threat—she wasn’t. The only reason she didn’t die that day was because she had Elora.

After the ceremony ended, everyone made their way back to their lairs to get ready for the clan meeting.

When his brothers insisted on having the clan meeting directly after their ordination, he couldn’t blame them. He had postponed everything until he and Elora were formalized as mates in all the ways that mattered. He didn’t want to move forward on anything without his omega bonded to him. He wanted to feel her in his chest, know her emotions, understand her mood and what she needed, know that she had a direct connection to his dan askha, who would help her if she needed it, and most of all, he wanted her to know she was safe. Elora had been a distraction for far too long. His inability to focus and concentrate on clan business had been compromised the day she came into his lair, so he’d forced the issue to have the ordination immediately; it was the next logical step.

Of course, Zendyor couldn’t let Elora take her dress off before he had it hitched up around her waist, her legs spread wide and his mouth on her sweet clit. She rode his tongue until she convulsed, her slick drenching his face. Then he reared up over her and slammed into her, pinning her arms over her head as he pummeled her dripping, tight, kon. She was truly and purely his, and the pleasure of that heightened the savage ecstasy that bounded through his body. Just before he came, he pulled out to lift her legs over her torso and then pounded her until they were knotted.

Surprisingly, Elora was energized afterward and once they cleaned and changed, he called out to Yorgynel. They settled in their usual flight position on their dragon’s back and headed to the temple. When they arrived, everyone was already in attendance. Even Khyros, who usually arrived after everyone else, was already seated.

"We need information about the queen," Sethorn started, after the greetings and time for the women to praise his mate on her ordination had taken place. Tyomar’s mate, Oshali, introduced the queen’s former warden, Uraya. "She had the ability to attack us effectively because she knew information that should not be known to anyone beyond the Forbidden Mountains."

“I think she has demonstrated that we cannot be careless about our safety and security protocols," Tyomar said.

"It seems to me that we have constantly underestimated both the king and queen," Zendyor said firmly. "We cannot keep doing so. They will see us as weak. We need to know the extent of their talent in Thrakondarian and any other information so we can attack immediately. No more fucking around."

"Uraya," Oshali said. "Is there anything you can tell us?"

Uraya had escaped the queen when the Vattoros had traveled South to assist Oshali.

“She has a lot of ancient books she consults," Uraya said. "But I don’t know how she learned the language. I think someone taught her—someone who was proficient with languages when she was younger."

"The king has books," I'mya recalled.

“I think…,” Elora said. “They learned it together.”

The whole table fell silent.

“Who?” I’mya’s eyes were wide in surprise.

“The king and queen,” Elora clarified. “They learned Thrakondarian together, which is why they cannot best each other.”

“How do you know that?” Tyomar asked.

Elora lifted her shoulders. “I’m not sure,”

“That means the war is destined to go on forever,” Oshali surmised.

Elora nodded. “The Goddess suggested that it was up to them to end it, not that there would be a victor.”

“Well, we are not being their fucking mediators,” Nyro said, irritably. “I just want them eliminated.”

Zendyor agreed.

"It would be good to know what their casting ability is, though,” Uraya said. “What’s their standard of casting compared to the dragorai, for example? Are they better than the average person, or are they just able to use it?”

“We are not average,” Sethorn said stiffly. "The fact they are able to cast at all makes them better than most lesser-mortals."

Uraya glared at him.

"From everything we have learned about them, everything we have studied— their bombs, the way they apply magic, their use of ember—they have a strategic plan to attack us and they’ve used their knowledge about the dragorai against us. We need a strategic plan, as well, and not rely on brute force," Sethorn said.

"The wardens are what make the queen powerful in the South," Uraya said. "They would die for her; they are completely brainwashed, and they are highly skilled."

"Why weren’t you?" Elora asked.

"I was forced to be a warden because of my skills."

"That skill may be important to us," Sethorn warned.

Uraya inclined her head, then added, "Providing you do what you said, I have no problem helping you."

Sethorn's face hardened. "If we are unable to defeat the queen, that agreement means nothing."

"It means your word," she shot back at him.

They glared at each other until Tyomar spoke again. "Does anyone know how she knew about the weakness in Zendyor's lair," he asked.

"She studies land and weather," Uraya said. "If she was able to map out and study the geological context of the Forbidden Mountains, then she has the ability to locate the lairs and determine if their structures are sound.”

"I can’t see how she'd be able to do that," I'mya said. "It seems impossible."

Zendyor shot to his feet as a surge of annoyance spun in his chest. "This is ridiculous!" he bellowed. Everyone stilled. "We are going around in circles. We need to make decisions and move forward with a plan!"

"We have to make sure we have good information so we don't make mistakes planning out our attack," Sethorn said. "You know this, Zendyor. We cannot be reckless. We have to be prepared to wait and think through the options to make the right choice. We cannot afford mistakes."

"It has been over six months since our first encounter and threat from the king," Zendyor shot back. “Six months. In that time, we have had two situations with the queen. And out of all of us, my omega was threatened the worst. We could have stopped them before now and we didn't. I want something done to eliminate these threats! We are dragorai. They cannot have any more skill in Thrakondarian than we do. It is impossible. They are learning it, while it is our mother tongue. I want a plan put in place today so we can move forward with a plan which can get us real results. We have already mapped out each of the Dominions—we know the topography, the demography, the weaknesses and the strengths. Why can we not make any solid plans?"

The room remained silent.

Zendyor glared at everyone daring someone to speak and to disagree with him. Elora’s small, cool hand slipped into his, and when he looked down she smiled up at him, pride in her eyes and he felt it twisting through their bond. He sat back down and pulled her into his lap, cuddling her into him as she stroked his arms. He didn’t care if it wasn’t appropriate for the meeting.

Zendyor was glad to see Khyros finally rise up. He was the only one who could approve any decision, and it was his role to decide on the direction they would go.

His calm voice permeated the quiet of the room. “We agreed that we need to attack the king and queen simultaneously to cause the most damage," he began. "We need someone to take responsibility for the king—"

"That will be me," Nyro said.

"—and someone to take responsibility for the queen."

"I will," Zendyor said.

Khyros inclined his head in agreement. "Sethorn," he said, glancing at the brother immediately to his right. "We must honor the agreement that we made with Uraya to get her friend back from the queen. We have not yet shown her that we will stand by our word. You are going to take the lead on that.”

Sethorn's jaw hardened. "I am better with strategy, not rescue missions."

"You will need to strategize for both Zen and Nyro, and Uraya to get this friend of hers back." He turned to Tyomar. “Tyomar, you will need to liaise with the Mheyu and then work with Zendyor and Nyro and relay any pertinent information.”

Khyros was then quiet for a moment, looking at them all. "Vattoros, we cannot, cannot, lose any brother or any dragon, but we must do what we need to protect ourselves. Be careful and work together.”

Everyone around the table nodded, cautiously looking around at each other. Sethorn was glaring at the new girl, who looked miserable at the decisions being made for her.

"Thank you, Khyros," Zendyor said, glad they were moving forward on a plan to avenge his omega.

* * *

Later that evening, instead of spending time in the Dao room, Zendyor took the opportunity to continue what he’d started after the ordination.

Wrapped around him, and pleasurably snug on his knot, Elora lifted her head and watched him closely. "The meeting today was productive.”

"I think it was," Zendyor said, rolling them over to one side to grab a glass of water for her.

"I don't want you to be reckless," Elora said as she sipped.

Zendyor gave her a look. “I might descend into my rage easily, but I’m not usually reckless.”

"But you might be now."

Zendyor frowned, pulling her away to look down at her as she finished drinking. He took the glass and drank deeply, set it back down, then rolled them back over to the middle of the bed. "What are you worried about?"

Elora sighed. "I can feel your anger about the attack within the bond," she said. "And I’m worried about it. There’s a simmering rage that you’re holding back. I can feel it. I don’t want your anger to get in the way and you to get hurt."

"I won’t let that happen, Elora," Zendyor said. "I can control my anger when I want to. I'm just trying to prevent anything further from happening to you," he clarified. "Or to anyone else. That was my point today."

"I know," Elora said. "I just want to make sure you’re not at risk from this rage you have.” She looked him in the eye. “I want you to forgive the queen.”

“What?” Zendyor thundered. “Forgive her? For what she did to you?”

“I’m not saying not to still carry out what was decided on today,” Elora said. “But if you forgive her, you’ll make more strategic decisions.”

He held her chin. “Elora. She dropped you in midair with the intent to kill you and crushed our mountain and lair to kill our staff. On a whim. It cannot be forgiven.”

Elora was silent for a moment. “One of the things the Goddess said to me when I saw her the second time was that I cannot expect to always seek only the good and the happy experiences in life and ignore the negative and terrible ones. The good and bad have to go together—they create balance.” Her eyes drifted up to Zendyor’s. “I’ve been thinking about what she said about my faction. I don’t know what negative things were happening I wasn’t aware of, they did not share those things with me. My opinion of them has always been that they were fair and just. But what if they weren’t? I believe we have to open our eyes and accept that there are some things that will always be troublesome or worrying or unpleasant, but doesn’t mean we cannot accept that and still find joy.” She gazed at Zendyor. “I want you to promise you will connect with me through the bond if you ever feel you are getting too overwhelmed with anger."

Zendyor thought for a moment. "I can. But I don’t know how effective I will be in battle if I don’t have the strength anger gives me. It is what defines me. I cannot change it.”

Elora nodded. "I know. I’m not saying you shouldn’t use it. I’m saying, let me reinforce you. Let me be the balance for your anger. I am your mate, and I will always be right here.” She placed her hand on his chest, in the same place she had all those nights she soothed him. "I will always be here to calm you or help you channel your rage."

Zendyor pulled her close to him, nuzzling his nose into her warm, scented neck. "And I will always be here as your family, Elora. Your rock, your base, whenever you feel unsettled," he said. He kissed her neck and along her jaw, and pulled back to look into her beautiful, grey eyes. “I exist for you.”