A Lair So Primal by Zoey Ellis

2

As the man reached the center of the room, the power of his presence made everything else fade away. He looked like a well-kept beast. Huge and thick, he towered over everyone in the room, his muscled arms rippling as he flexed them in agitation. He was close enough that she could see him more clearly. But she wished she wasn’t. His full head of dark blond hair was rugged and rough, as though the wind had whipped it up into a frenzy just before he stepped into the room. The flickering light cut harsh shadows over his face, intermittently swamping his face, but one thing was clear; he was furious. His anger charged the room, and his tense body made her feel as though he was ready to pounce at any moment, but it was his expression that terrified her—he looked as though her appearance offended him.

Elora’s mouth was suddenly dry and she kept herself as still as she could, barely even breathing.

“kosh don sha hipik.” Deep and gritty, his voice rumbled straight through her chest.

Elora frowned, unsure how to respond. It should be obvious she didn’t know or understand his language. Thankfully, the female steward spoke up, but she didn’t translate—she responded to him in his language.

The alpha turned his head toward the steward, though his eyes remained on Elora, but whatever the steward said seemed to agitate him more. He paced back and forth, his eyes locked onto hers until he spoke again.

“You are the one who knew the rules of the Forbidden Mountains and still chose to breach my territory.”

Surprised that he could speak the common language of the North, Elora inhaled a sharp breath. I’mya had said that Nyro refused to speak any of the common languages, although that didn’t mean he couldn’t. Before she could gather her thoughts to respond, the beast spoke again.

“You sought to avoid punishment by hiding in my brother’s lair,” he snarled. “You choose to show the utmost disrespect to the dragorai! Explain yourself.”

Elora was unable to drag her eyes from him, especially while he was pacing. Still, she tried to compose herself. “It wasn’t my intention to be disrespectful, Master.” She hated that her voice was thin and small. “I was eager to meet with the stewards of Master Nyro’s lair, and I didn’t think it would be a problem to—”

Zendyor’s snarl interrupted her. “You did not think you would get caught!”

Elora’s fear seized her and her knees almost gave way. “That is true,” she admitted. “I decided to risk it.”

The beast slowed to a stop, turning to face her, his disbelief heavy in both voice and expression. “You decided to risk it?”

Elora simply stared at him; there was nothing she could say.

“Do you know what we, the dragorai, do to trespassers? Do you know the punishment?”

“I had to get away from the war,” Elora said, trying to explain herself calmly, a flash of irritation bursting in her chest.

“Answer me!”

Elora swallowed, battling equal amounts of fear and annoyance. “I… I’ve heard different things. I don’t know what to believe.”

“You can believe that we do not treat criminals well,” Zendyor growled.

Elora blinked. “Criminal? No, I-I’m not….”

“No?” The alpha shot forward in long powerful strides, so quick she barely had time to flinch before his thick hand grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked her head back until she stared directly up at him.

Elora let out a whimper, her body stiff with shock, drowning in the terror filling her veins. His grip was so strong, and she was small and frail next to him. He could snap her in half with one thick finger. She pushed away the prickly fear that clawed down her throat, warning her to run.

“You are not what?” he snapped.

For a moment Elora had no words. Up close, he was vastly more handsome than she had first glimpsed from so far away. His features were strong with high cheekbones, thick brows, and a full wide mouth. But the most startling thing about him were his eyes—pure, deep blue, as dark and beautiful as the night sky. And the fury in them was tinged with an intense disdain yet sharp curiosity.

A distinctive earthy, smoky scent surrounded him, rich and dark and ladened with a potent masculinity that could only be described as divinely and deliciously alpha. It enveloped her, alerting her body that she was in the presence of not just any alpha, but a dragorai-alpha—an almost immortal being favored by the Goddesses. They were unlike any other people or creatures to ever exist. Elora bit her lip as her nipples hardened, and the trembling energy in her limbs spiraled through her, rushing straight to the tingle developing between her legs. His scent was highly appealing—beautiful, layered, and complex—as it would be to any omega; her body was bound to respond. It was the first time it had ever happened to her, but these were the times when it was frustrating to be an omega.

Closing her eyes, she discarded all concerns about her reaction to him and focused on what it meant. This man wasn’t just an alpha, he was a divine being who had been alive for hundreds of years, and she was an insignificant mortal who had fallen foul of his laws and was easy prey he could kill instantly, if he chose. It was now clear to her that she hadn’t approached this situation appropriately at all.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she whispered, opening her eyes again. “Please accept my apologies for my mistake—it wasn’t intended to insult you. I just… I was selfish. I do respect and honor you and your clan, and I will accept any punishment you deem appropriate.”

The intensity of his anger dulled a little. His eyes roamed over her face, drifting down to her exposed neck before traveling back up to meet her gaze.

“You were born in the war,” he said.

Elora nodded, only able to move her head a minute amount.

“The North Cities.”

She nodded again. He seemed to prefer making statements rather than asking questions.

“Then you are not unused to living in it.”

Elora opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Was he planning on sending her back to the North Cities? Without her faction, it was a death sentence. Dejected, she closed her mouth and swallowed.

The beast’s eyes snapped to her undulating throat. “You entered my brother’s lair for safety,” he stated, his eyes returning to hers.

“That was one benefit, yes,” Elora breathed.

“What was another?”

“To have a home.”

The beast didn’t respond to that. He glared down at her but his gaze wasn’t as intense as before. Elora couldn’t guess what he might be thinking but hoped he couldn’t smell the rising arousal beneath her furs. Another irritating omega problem.

Then a soft voice spoke from the side of the room. “hiklok, sä va yu woräf wom kosh tara.”

The beast didn’t react for a moment and then suddenly released her. Elora fell forward onto her hands and knees, a painful shock juddering through her limbs as they hit the hard ground.

She looked up to see the back of the dragorai as he strode out of the room.

While Elora’s heart pounded wildly in her chest, her awareness slowly expanded to the rest of the room and the people in it. The two stewards standing either side of her by the walls hadn’t moved an inch. The dragorai-alpha of this lair considered her a criminal, she thought, as she panted trying to slow her heartrate, horror filtering through her mind at the situation she caused for herself. He wanted her punished not only for crossing into his territory but also for evading him, something she hadn’t done intentionally. As her breathing calmed, she rocked back onto her heels and glanced up at the female steward. “Thank you.”

The steward looked at her, her brow raised. “For what? I didn’t do anything to help you. I simply reminded him he was going to be late for a meeting.”

“Oh,” Elora said. She pushed herself to her feet and tightened her furs around her, trying to compose herself as much as she could.

The female steward stepped forward. “I’ll take you to a cell until he comes back.”

Elora picked up her carrysack. “A cell?”

“He will want to see you when he returns,” the steward said. “He has yet to decide what he’s doing with you.”

“Oh,” Elora said, her heart dropping. The idea of facing him again made her want to run.

“There is a good chance he will not kill you,” the female steward said, her voice warm and encouraging as if that was a good thing.

Elora’s eyes widened. “Kill me?”

The woman shot her a strange look. “You are a criminal. You trespassed on his land.”

“Yes, I am a trespasser,” Elora said, somewhat frustrated. “But I don’t understand why he is so angry about it. I didn’t harm anyone.”

The woman frowned. “Do you know anything about the dragorai at all?”

Elora almost scowled but instead she smiled. “Of course I do.”

“And you are wondering why an endangered race of alphas are almost obsessively protective of their land from the people who killed every other clan of their kind?” she said, slight annoyance in her tone.

Elora lowered her eyes as she huffed out a breath. That did make sense. “It is not as though I could cause him any true damage,” she muttered. “He is enormous.”

“Yes,” the woman said, sternly. “I’m sure the dragorai thought the same about the lesser-mortals at one point too.”

The male steward stepped forward. “We are all protective of them, but I can understand why you did it.”

“You can?” Elora looked at him with hope. “Do you think I can convince him?”

“No,” he said kindly. “Our lord is very particular about the breakage of rules. But if he was going to kill you, he would have done so already. So I think, at least for now, you are the newest member of our lair. Welcome.”

Elora gave him a weak smile, but she didn’t particularly feel glad about that.

“You shouldn’t speak too soon, Walrick,” the woman said. “He could still decide to punish her.”

“I’m sure he will,” he said, smiling sympathetically at Elora. “But our lord has very simple rules and simple needs. It is his habit to kill offenders immediately rather than ask questions. I think she is relatively safe from him for now.” He turned to the woman. “If you allocate her private quarters, I will alert the others and let them know she is staying.”

“I will do nothing of the sort,” the woman said affronted. “Unless our lord tells me to, I see no reason to prepare anything as of yet.”

The man exhaled heavily. “As you wish. I have other responsibilities to complete today before sundown. And so do you, but if you wish to spend more time on this than is absolutely necessary, you are welcome to.” He turned to Elora. “Welcome to the lair.”

With that, he left through a different exit—an opening in the side of the wall that Elora hadn’t seen. She stared after him, shocked at their interaction. In Nyro’s lair, stewards never argued or disagreed in front of servants. They were considered the organizers of the lair who made sure things ran smoothly and who made the majority of decisions about its upkeep.

The female steward sighed. “Come on,” she said, gesturing for Elora to follow her out of the room.

She led Elora through the wide corridors of the lair, and although they had been carved in the same way as Master Nyro’s lair, it had a completely different feel. In Master Nyro’s lair, every opportunity was taken to have openings that served as windows allowing light into various rooms and corridors, but this lair lacked that—it felt darker. The familiar warm breeze that kept the mountain warm was still present, but the atmosphere was different; quieter and less active. As she walked, Elora realized that she hardly saw anyone walking about the lair, almost as if there was no one else around.

“Where is everyone?” she asked the steward.

“Doing their duties,” she said. “I’m not sure what it was like in your old lair, but here we work and make sure the lair is maintained in good condition.”

“Yes, there were servants who made sure of that,” Elora said. “This just seems a little less busy.”

“Our lord does not allow anyone to be idle,” the steward explained. “Everyone in a dragorai lair must be useful.” She shot Elora a strange look. “Surely, it must have been the same in the lair that you were in. It is one of the main edicts of the dragorai culture.”

Elora frowned. Were all the activities they did in the other lair considered to be idle activities? Maybe they would be to this steward, but that lair also had more kon’aya. Maybe it was quiet here because there were less people.

“Do you have activities here?” she asked the steward. “Such as painting or Dao or—”

“We do not live in a lounge,” the steward said, somewhat sharply. “Everyone here supports the lifestyle of the dragorai who shelters and protects us. That is our role and that is what we do.” She made a low tutting sound with her mouth. “I am guessing that your Lord Nyro and his stewards run his lair completely at odds with the way dragorai lairs are supposed to be run,” the steward said, tightly. “We do not have time for unnecessary leisure.”

Elora’s heart sunk. So this lair was nothing like her old one at all.

“A dragorai lair is not an escape from the war,” the steward continued, “nor is it a substitute to the life we may have had before the war. It is a sacred place to worship and support the dragorai-alpha to whom it belongs. Anyone here should be proud to do that.”

“I am,” Elora said quickly. “I don’t want you to think that I went to Master Nyro’s lair solely to escape the war. I definitely respect the dragorai.”

“If you did, you would not have trespassed on our lord’s land. You would have known how territorial they are and that you were putting your life in danger.”

“I had no—”

The steward held her hand up sharply, stopping Elora from continuing. “I can see that you will need training about what living in a dragorai lair is supposed to be like,” she said, “and that is only if our lord allows you to stay. I’m not sure what he will have in store for you, but as Walrick said, our lord despises rule breakers, as do most of us here.”

Elora kept her mouth shut this time. There was no point in speaking until she knew whatever she said would not offend this steward. When she first arrived at Nyro’s lair, Dayatha seemed strict and I’mya had argued that sometimes she was unreasonable and would use magic on them without their consent, but Dayatha never judged them. This steward saw Elora as some kind of deviant who was keen to subvert the dragorai culture. She would have to try to correct the steward’s opinion, if she had a chance to.

The steward stopped outside a closed door and gestured to Elora’s carrysack. “Give me your belongings.”

Elora slipped her carrysack from her shoulder. “Why?”

“I will keep it with me so whatever you are carrying doesn’t get damaged.”

Elora wondered what she was talking about but didn’t ask. The less confrontations she had with this steward, the better. She handed over the carrysack and the steward gestured to the door.

“Our lord will visit you in here when he returns.”

“How long will that be?” Elora asked, glancing at the door. “Is that my room?”

“It is where you will wait until he returns,” the steward said. “In you go.”

Elora opened the door and stepped in, and a rush of energy swirled around her, yanking her up to the middle of the room. She yelped as her feet lifted off the floor and spun her around to face the door she entered, her body suddenly weightless. The prickle in the air had to be magic, there was nothing else that could fill the air so completely and impact her body in such a way. It held her upright in the middle of the room, locking her in position with outstretched arms, though her legs were relaxed as they dangled.

Elora pressed her lips into a tight line as she realized she was in a dark, magical cell with lamps attached to the walls. She was probably going to be stuck in this position until the beast returned. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she repeated to herself that this lair would only be what she could make of it, and although things didn’t look good for her right now, if she convinced the dragorai to spare her when he returned, then she would still have a chance of being part of the lair’s community. So far it was nothing like her old lair, but she’d only met two stewards and from what she knew, the stewards were not the main bulk of the staff. It was the servants who really mattered, and if she could find a way to join them, it wouldn’t matter what any of the stewards thought about her; however, it was difficult to remain positive and confident about her new circumstances. She hadn’t anticipated the degree to which Zendyor would consider her a criminal. She understood why he was so protective of his land and why he disliked trespassers, but it still felt over-the-top.

She twisted her wrists. The magic allowed her some leeway to rotate her arms, but that was all. Sighing, she told herself things would be all right, and she began the long wait.

* * *

Elora was unsure how long she hovered in the empty cell. It felt like hours, but there were no windows and no indication of passing time. Something that confused her was how the magic in the room was able to hold her for so long. As far as she had been aware, magic could only be compelled by incantations spoken in the dragorai’s language or by potions, so she thought someone would at least visit to keep the magic active, but no one had come to her cell. The time passing was mindless and boring; she couldn’t even sleep. And just when she thought she might scream in frustration, the door finally opened.

The beast stepped in.

The air thickened around her at the sight of the enormous hulk of him, and her nerves sparked, sending gooseflesh along her arms.

His gaze locked onto her as he came forward, though once again his eyes were darkened to black hollows by the dancing flames of the lamps. But Elora noticed his jaw was tight, his fists clenched, and his nostrils flared at the sight of her. Clearly the meeting had not calmed him.

“Master.” Elora forced her words out before he said anything. “I feel I need to further explain why I crossed your land.”

“You have said enough.” His voice was rough. “And nothing you have uttered has been worth listening to.”

Annoyance sparked through her but she forced it aside. What did she expect? The dragorai were not concerned about the lives of lesser-mortals, and she couldn’t blame them—considering it was her kind who had destroyed most of theirs. She didn’t know why his dismissal of her reasons kindled her annoyance; it was an unusual reaction for her to have. “What do you wish to do with me?” she asked.

“If it was my choice,” the beast rumbled slowly, “I would hunt you.” He stepped toward her. “I would have my stewards take you out on my range to anywhere of their choosing, and I would take to the sky on my dan askha. We would chase you until your lungs were on fire and your feet bled. My dan askha would claw at you until rivers of blood poured down your limbs.” The determination in his voice left her with no doubt he would do it, and that plunged her into a new realm of horror. “We would chase you for days, maybe weeks or months,” he continued, “rationing your time to sleep or eat until you were too weak to run anymore. We would burn you until your skin blistered, until puss oozed from your wounds and infections rotted your most intimate areas.” Tears sprung to Elora’s eyes. Did he do this to people? “And then we would both rip your limbs from your body and incinerate them until they were crisp, shriveled lumps of flesh. And I would make sure you stayed alive long enough to watch your own destruction.”

Elora’s tears trickled onto her cheeks. It wasn’t just the horror of what he was saying but the dark undertone of delight that accompanied his words. There was no doubt in her mind that this beast would have carried out this torture with the utmost pleasure. And what was worse was that he was close enough that his gorgeous heady scent smothered her senses. Her reactions to him filtered between disgust and attraction; it was both confusing and irritating. “Why don’t you do it?” she managed to whisper.

The beast’s jaw flexed and he scowled. “Nyro’s mate has asked that you not be poorly treated.”

Elora’s breath shuddered as she exhaled in relief. She had narrowly escaped a fate more vicious than any death she could suffer in the North Cities, and it was thanks to I’mya.

“However, she cannot ask that you not be punished,” he growled. He stepped even closer, towering over her. “You will be required to pay your debt to me in any way that I see fit.”

Elora nodded. Unable to speak for a moment, she swallowed her horror. “I will be happy to do anything to improve your trust in me, Master,” she said finally. “I wish to be useful to you.”

The beast’s eyes were once again on her neck, but he tilted his head to one side. “Why do you call me master?”

Elora blinked up at him in surprise. “Is that not how you prefer to be addressed?”

“No.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I—”

“This is how you addressed my brother.”

“Yes. I thought that was how we should address all of the dragorai.”

“There is no single formal address,” the beast said. “Although we are partial to the way the Mheyu Guardians refer to us, the Anointed Ones.”

Elora hesitated. “Would you prefer I call you that?”

The beast was quiet for a moment as he examined her. “You will call me lord.”

Elora smiled, trying to be bright and friendly. Dragorais respected strength and loyalty, but if she could show him she could be amiable and receptive, then maybe he would see she wouldn’t be any further problem to him. “I shall. I am looking forward to becoming a useful member of your staff, my lord.”

The dragorai was silent for a long moment. “How were you useful in my brother’s lair?”

Elora’s smile faltered. “I helped with…” What could she say? He wouldn’t find pottery or embroidery or any of the other things she’d enjoyed useful. “I made sure everyone was… in good spirits.”

The dragorai expression didn’t change. “That is a job for stewards.”

Elora’s smile deepened. “It can be very alarming for your servants to meet people from all over the Twin Realms. Sometimes it’s difficult to know how to trust when you’ve never had the chance to do so during the war.”

“And you trust people,” the beast stated.

“I was with a big family faction for all of my life,” Elora explained. “And yes, we trusted each other, making sure we were all happy, helping with the well-being of the faction as a whole. I think that applies to lair communities too… don’t you?”

“And what of that faction now? If you were happy, why were you so desperate to go to my brother’s lair?”

Elora opened her mouth but it was impossible to get the words out. Her throat closed up and that familiar feeling of loss and loneliness began to creep into her.

The dragorai watched her for a long moment and when it became clear that she wasn’t answering him, he grabbed her hair and jerked her head back again.

Elora gasped. “I’m sorry, I—”

The beast stretched his other arm over to her opposite arm, his fingers hovering over her wrist and he began to mutter under his breath.

The magic in the air responded, swirling and crackling as it funneled to his fingers and dug into her wrist. A sharp pain, like three knives slicing into her, careened over her body and she screamed, trying to yank her arm away from him, but she was frozen. The beast moved his fingers up her arm, dragging the magic along with it and the pain increased tenfold. Three deep, jagged scores appeared on her arm, as though invisible claws were tearing into her, and blood gushed from the wounds, pouring down her arm as she tensed and tried to get away from him. He was using magic to cut her! Dizziness overwhelmed her as the pain heightened, her bones snapping in explosions of violent agony. She cried out, begging and sobbing for him to stop, but he carried on until he reached her shoulder. When his muttering finally ceased and moved his hand from her, she slumped in the air, whimpering as he turned to face her again, but she was unable to recoil from him.

“Trust is unnecessary when there are consequences for undesirable behavior,” he said, his mouth tight and his eyes dark, “or for not abiding by the rules.”

Elora could barely focus on what he was saying. Agonizing pain rocked her to her core, making her breathless. Her mind swam, trying to make sense of what was happening. She’d always been able to handle everything with a smile on her face, taking life as it came, looking for reasons to be bright and hopeful in the harsh realities of the Twin Realms. But in just the few hours she’d spent in this beast’s lair, she knew she would struggle to do that here. He sought pain and punishment. It was only severe loathing for him that would keep her sane. This man truly was a beast.

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing heavily and biting her lip, trying to come to terms with the pain, and she settled her dazed mind so she could ask for a healer, but when she opened them again, the beast was watching her closely, his eyes once again on her neck. Suddenly, he leaned forward toward her… too close.

Elora couldn’t get away. She tensed again unsure of his intentions, but as he lowered his face, aiming for her neck, disbelief embraced her at what he was doing.

“Don’t,” she tried to snap at him.

He ignored her and nestled his nose close to the base of her neck.

Elora wished she had the strength to kick him, push him away from her, but strangely, a large part of her craved what he was about to do.

Slowly, the beast scented her, running his nose up the length of her neck and releasing a rumble of pleasure as he did. A deep involuntary shudder gripped Elora’s body, followed by a beam of desire that stung her nipples and sent a rush to her stomach. For a moment, the dizzying agony of her arm dulled, faded into the distance in favor of the alpha’s proximity and expression of sexual interest. A moan escaped her lips as her slick began to gather between her legs, and she breathed in his complex, heady scent, greedy for more.

So that’s what it felt like. Mama told her an alpha scenting an omega was an intimate and private gesture between a couple who were potentially compatible. It was an alpha’s way of determining the true scent of an omega, but was only something he would do if she was attractive to him. During the war, most alphas didn’t bother. They weren’t looking for compatible omegas—once they managed to get one, the most important thing was getting between her legs, not scenting her neck. It was somewhat old-fashioned—a sign of a respectful courtship, and despite how much she hated this beast, this behavior pleased her.

“Your scent is spectacular,” the beast murmured, his voice beautifully husky.

The tang of her blood in the air pierced the blanketing comfort of his scent, disoriented her. All she could do was gurgle in response.

The dragorai was already undoing her furs.

“No, don’t do that,” Elora said, her voice annoyingly breathy. “Please, I need a healer. Don’t…”

Before she could finish her sentence, her furs were open and the scent of her arousal seeped into the room. She closed her eyes again, horrified and embarrassed, but the pain in her arm focused her mind, forcing her to push aside her mortification. When she opened her eyes again, he was kneeling before her, gazing between her legs as he scrunched up her tunic to expose her further. He leaned forward, brushing his face against her mound.

She spoke as firmly as she could. “You said I wouldn’t be poorly treated.”

The beast stilled, his face twisting in anger as he looked up at her. “You are my property now. I will do with you as I wish.”

She swallowed again. “Please, I need immediate treatment before I am no longer able to use my arm.”

The beast growled. “You cannot escape your punishment.”

The lingering annoyance that had been wavering beneath the surface surged up, taking hold of her. “Is this my punishment?” she asked sharply. “Your nose between my legs? I thought the dragorai prided themselves on their sexual abilities more than that.”

The beast’s nostrils flared and he rose to his feet swiftly, this time hooking his thick arm around her torso and pulling her against him. His eyes burning into hers with a rage that made her blanch.

What possessed her to say such a thing?He would most certainly kill her now and there was nothing she could do to stop him. The pain in her arm was making her lightheaded and she trembled uncontrollably. “Please,” she said again in a measured tone. “I have been traveling all night. I haven’t rested. You had me held in cell for hours and now my arm is shattered and bleeding. I will bleed to death if you don’t get me a healer.”

The fury in the beast’s eyes slowly changed to a muted blaze. “I will have you healed,” he said after a long moment.

Relief swept the tension swept out of Elora’s body, and she sagged on his torso, lowering her head as tears stung her eyes and nose.

But the beast tilted her chin up, drawing her face up to his, a challenge in his deep blue eyes. “Then I won’t only have my mouth on your kon, savoring your taste and eating your slick, I will have all of you.”