A Lair So Primal by Zoey Ellis

4

Soft clanking and clattering woke her. Elora groaned, her head spinning. Her face was plastered against a pillow and blankets surrounded her, propping her into positions to secure her.

The aroma of fresh bread reached her nose and she rolled over onto her back.

“I hope you had a good sleep.” It was Marahl. She was at the desk with another tray and some plates. “Midday is approaching. I thought you might want some food before it gets too late.”

Elora sat up, wincing at the ache in her limbs. Memories came rushing back to her and she frowned realizing that she was back in her room. “How did I get here?”

“You were brought back here,” Marahl said while pouring a hot drink into a mug on the table.

“Oh.” Every muscle in Elora’s body throbbed in a dull discomfort which was also oddly satisfying. She peered at her bandaged arm and looked over her body. There was no blood.

“I changed your bandages,” Marahl said.

Elora checked her hair and clothes. She was wearing a night tunic that she didn’t remember putting on. “Did you dress me?”

“No,” Marahl said. “You must have found that in here.”

“What about the blood?”

“What blood?”

Elora frowned at her. She couldn’t have missed the blood—it had been everywhere.

Marahl shot her a strange look back. “After you eat, I recommend you stay in here.”

“You want me to stay in here all day?” Elora said incredulously.

“I’m not saying you can’t leave,” Marahl said. “I just want to make sure that if I need to find you, you are not wandering around the lair lost.”

“Where is… our lord,” Elora asked tentatively. At the thought of him, her core clenched and a much more significant ache cut through her. She tried not to wince too obviously in front of Marahl, but she was so sore.

“He is out at the moment.”

Elora nodded, somewhat relieved. She was still in shock at her experience with him. She knew alphas and omegas had a much deeper instinctual connection together than the non-dynamics, but never would she have guessed it would be so… primitive. It had to be because he was a dragorai and his particular scent and behavior made her so wild. There was no other explanation. Mama had tried to prepare her by explaining how things worked, and it wasn’t as though she wasn’t aware of sex happening within the faction at times, and she’d witnessed constant sex in Nyro’s lair, but nothing she’d seen and nothing Mama ever said resembled what Elora had experienced yesterday. And she was conflicted about experiencing it again.

“I need to ask you something,” she said, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “When I was around the lair yesterday, no one would speak to me—some even tried to get as far away from me as possible. Why is that?”

Marahl walked slowly to the door and picked up her basket of potions. “Until our lord has accepted you properly, it will be difficult for anyone else to either.”

“Why?”

“If you are seen as a criminal, or someone who has wronged the alpha of this lair, it’s not just that alpha whom you have offended,” she explained. “It is his staff and his dan askha. It is his clan and the dragorai as a whole. No one wants to anger our lord by befriending you when he hasn’t fully accepted you yet.”

Elora held up her hands in frustration. “You told me that he wanted me healed and you gave me this room. So are you saying that I’m still not accepted?”

“You have no role, no purpose,” Marahl said. “You will be accepted when you do. That is when you will truly be part of the lair.”

“So even if I go about the lair today, the same thing will happen? They will avoid me?” She shook her head in annoyance. “I thought this place would be more welcoming.”

“Maybe you should manage your expectations better,” Marahl said, her voice stern. “You seem to think that you’re entering this lair under the same conditions in which you entered your last lair. You are not. In Nyro’s lair you were welcomed as a member of his staff. In this lair, you have been handed over to us because of an action that you chose to take which is against dragorai rules. You have to come to terms with that.”

“I am,” Elora snapped, harsher than she intended. “But I’m here. I’m paying my debt the way he wants me to. Does that mean I will not be a part of the community until he decides that my debt is over?”

Marahl shook her head. “I cannot decide that.”

“You are the steward,” Elora insisted. “I don’t understand how you do not have some involvement in what other people in the lair believe.”

“If you are under any impression that I manipulate my staff’s thoughts, I will tell you now that you’re mistaken,” Marahl said stiffly. “They are their own people and are here for their own reasons. It may be that way in Nyro’s lair, where there are multiple war-avoiders who see his home as an escape or a fun social community and a chance to see the elusive dragorai, but people in this lair have been here for years. To serve. We love the dragorai.” She headed to the door and opened it. “If you want to be part of this lair, you need to manage your expectations.”

“You don’t manage yours,” she said, quietly.

Marahl stilled. “What?”

Elora firmed her mind and forced herself to remain steadfast and not fall back on her usual smiley kindness. “You just made numerous assumptions about Nyro’s lair that you don’t know to be true,” she pointed out. “And you and your staff behave as though I tried to attack and kill your lord, when in reality I was fleeing to safety. I am not like other trespassers—I never would have been on his land if I wasn’t going to Master Nyro’s lair. There is a difference. You are not willing to give me the benefit of doubt, even though I am paying my debt, and I’m happy to do it.” She lifted her shoulders. “At least in Nyro’s lair there is an acceptance that we all come with a past, just like the dragorai themselves, and our pasts aren’t held against us.”

Marahl was silent for a long moment and Elora held her breath. She never would have normally been so direct with someone she’d just met but this lair, and its lord, was bringing out sides of her she didn’t recognize. Still, it wasn’t as though it didn’t need to be said. Maybe this was how she needed to be here.

Marahl sighed. “I’ll be back shortly to give you a tour of the lair, so you can at least start learning your way around.”

Elora relaxed and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

Marahl inclined her head and left.

Pushing herself up onto her unsteady, achy legs, Elora headed to the table, wondering whether Marahl really heard her. She understood what Marahl was saying about the staff and why they might not have been keen to talk to her or be seen with her, but now that she was clearly their lord’s kon’aya surely that would change things.

She took a bite out of the fresh-baked bread and hummed in delight, savoring it. She was starving. For some reason, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Thankfully Marahl had provided numerous plates with a range of dishes on them.

As the food warmed her belly, her spirits lifted. Maybe on the tour with Marahl, the other servants would see she was friendly and maybe give her a chance.

Soon after she finished her meal, Marahl opened her door. “Ready?”

They left the room, and Elora made a point to memorize their route.

Walking around the lair with Marahl gave Elora a better picture of what it was like. Marahl explained to her that most of the dragorai lairs were the same size and required a similar kind of maintenance. They came across servants who were busy doing their duties, just like when Elora saw them the day before, except this time they didn’t make it a point to avoid her—but they didn’t speak to her either. Some of them eyed her or asked Marahl what Elora’s role was, but most of them hardly spoke, simply nodding their heads in acknowledgment to Marahl as she passed. And Marahl didn’t stop to speak to them either. Her explanation was that she didn’t want to interrupt them from their duties. Elora began to get the feeling that most of the ones who had ignored her weren’t being intentionally rude, rather, they had a single-minded focus on their chores and she was not important enough to disrupt them.

They came across the young woman in the brown tunic who Elora had seen the day before; she was in a room making candles. Marahl paused to explain to Elora about the room and Elora smiled at the girl. The girl smiled back but continued her duties without a word.

“You said everyone has been here for years,” Elora said to Marahl as they began walking again. “Has she?”

“Yes. She’s been here since she was a young girl. She was recruited along with her brother who works in another part of the lair. They’ve both grown so quickly, I’m not sure they would even recognize each other now.”

“What do you mean?” Elora said, horrified. “Why wouldn’t they recognize each other? Don’t they see each other?”

“The lair is big, Elora,” Marahl said. “As far as I know, they spend time together when they can, but their quarters are located in different parts of the lair since their jobs are different.”

“How long do they work in a given day,” Elora asked.

“Usually from sunrise to sundown,” Marahl said, glancing at her. “What was it like in your last lair?”

Elora’s heart sunk. The culture of this new lair was nothing but constant work, and she couldn’t figure out why. What was the need for everyone to work so hard? Was it the rumbling and shaking that made the lair require more maintenance? Everything she had seen the servants do didn’t look to her as if it had to do with maintaining the structure of the lair, but she couldn’t be sure. She hadn’t seen everyone.

Marahl took her to the kitchens where she met the first friendly face since she’d left Nureen. The main chef was an exhausted-looking, dark-haired man called Boe who had a mischievous grin and a compulsion to have Elora taste everything.

“No more, no more,” she laughed, after trying spoonfuls of eight different sauces. “I will look forward to them on my next meal.”

“Fine,” huffed Boe. “But take these.” He pushed handfuls of sugared almond clusters into Elora and Marahl’s hands. “I was experimenting this week and there are too many for me to eat.”

Marahl tsked. “He just likes feeding people,” she muttered to Elora.

Boe glared at her, even though he never stopped filling her hands with more clusters, and both Marahl and Elora laughed.

“Elora is staying in the lower west region,” Marahl said. “Can you start using the bell in a few days once she’s healed so she knows when she can collect her meals?”

Boe beamed. “Of course.”

“The bell will let you know when dishes are ready throughout the day,” Marahl explained. “Once you get used to the times, you won’t need the bell anymore. Do you think you’ll be able to find your way here?”

“I think so. All I have to do is follow the delightful smells.” Elora grinned at Boe. “The midday meal today was delicious.”

Boe was so pleased he beckoned her over to his stove to show her what was planned for the evening meal, but Marahl intervened and they made a hasty exit.

Elora grinned to herself at the chef’s excitement as they walked through the corridors. So far, he was the only one who showed any enthusiasm or even any interest for somebody new in the lair, yet he was working just as hard as everyone else.

Her good mood didn’t go unnoticed.

“You like meeting people,” Marahl observed.

“I do,” Elora said with a smile. “I think people make life easier most of the time.”

Marahl smiled. “They certainly can make things interesting.”

“Everyone seems interesting so far,” Elora said. “I’d love to meet them when they’re not working.”

Marahl lifted a shoulder. “You could try,” she remarked, “but it would probably be impossible.”

Elora silently took that as a challenge. However, it was the stewards who ran and organized the lair, and she didn’t want to upset them. “Would you or the other stewards mind?”

“Our primary concern is that everyone does their part to maintain the lair. Their duties must not be disrupted.”

Elora nodded. “Will I get to meet the other stewards?”

“Not today,” Marahl said. “But yes you will meet them eventually.”

When Elora returned to her room, a melancholy mood tugged at her good spirits. She sat on her bed, thinking about the main differences between the two lairs. Going to the chest that held her few belongings, she pulled them all out and looked at them; two paintings, fabrics and needles for her embroidery, her favorite tunics, and the book Nureen had given her, while the Dao table sat next the chest…. They were symbols of her pastimes and contributions at the other lair, and each one would be considered unimportant here.

She felt sorry for the beast’s servants, not only because their day consisted of work from the moment they woke up to the moment they retired, but because they hadn’t experienced the joy in just relaxing. She’d been lucky to have been in that lair. Maybe if she’d arrived here first, she would be as exhausted and as overworked as everyone else, and she wouldn’t have known different. Would she have thought herself lucky?

Elora got busy decorating her room, finding a way to hang the paintings, painstakingly setting up all the pieces on the Dao table, putting the little figurine that Tiiu gave her on the table, and fixing the book on the shelf next to her table. It didn’t make the room suddenly feel like home, but it definitely looked more like her space.

She practiced playing Dao, moving the pieces precisely and carefully to various positions until she was tired of it. There was no point in practicing so hard if there was no one to play against. Sitting back in the chair, her eyes drifted up to the book that Nureen had given her. She grabbed it and cuddled up on the bed to read it, once again inwardly groaning at the ache between her legs.

When she opened the book, tears came to her eyes reading the first page.

Dear Elora,

I know learning to read is your strongest passion, apart from being an amazing friend, and you were doing very well before you left here. I’m not sure if your new home will have a library as extensive as ours, but in light of where you’re going, I wanted to make sure you would be as prepared as possible.

I have scoured the library for any stories about Zendyor that you might find useful. I’mya allowed me to use some of the books about the dragorai that she keeps in her private chambers, and she even asked a couple of the stewards some questions.

I have written out all the stories with increasing difficulty so that you can, firstly and most importantly, practice your reading and secondly learn about what has been said about your new master.

Keep in mind that I do not know if all of these stories are true. But even if they’re not, they are still entertaining and worth practicing your reading.

I miss you already. Love from us all.

Nureen

Elora flicked through the book to see pages and pages of Nureen’s neat handwriting with story after story about the beast, each one stating where she got the story from as well as her own little comments and reactions to them. It must have taken her hours. She brushed away her tears. Only Nureen was kind and thoughtful enough to do something like this for her. Maybe she’d been more worried about Elora than she admitted, but either way it might help her immensely in dealing with the beast.

It seemed now that being accepted into the lair rested on him giving her a role. She would have to ask him if he could do that soon.

She took a halting breath at the idea. The thought of being in the same room as him sent a nervous pang in her stomach. How was she supposed to convince him of anything?

She lay on her bed and began reading.

A few hours later, the mountain began to shake again, and Elora gripped her bed and waited for it to stop. The defined thuds rocked through the bed, and she realized the thuds were less of a tremble and more a series of thumps, as though somebody was banging against the mountain. Once again, it didn’t last very long, but her heart was still racing. When the thudding finally quieted, she sat quietly and waited to see if Marahl would come to collect her. She hoped she wouldn’t. Her body still ached and she wasn’t ready to try to talk to him.

But a little while after the noises stopped, Marahl appeared at the door. Elora followed her again up the sloped corridors and to the upper part of the mountain to his chambers.

When she entered this time, she headed straight to the bed and sat down on it, back straight, hands in her lap, and watched the door.

If he entered in the state he was in last time, she wasn’t sure how she was going to talk with him. He’d been completely wild and not able to listen or reason with her, but she had to try.

When she heard the bang of the door, she took a deep breath and straightened, her heart pounding once again at the sight of him.

Again, he was drenched in blood with only his lower half dressed. He was already heading toward Elora, his jaw clenched, dark eyes on her, the same fierce expression on his face.

She took a breath. “My lord, I need to speak to you.”

The beast kept coming and the closer he came the more nervous she got.

“My lord—”

His scent reached her first, enticing that part of her that was compelled by it. Elora held herself still, forcing herself not to react, but it was impossible. Every nerve in her body hummed with anticipation, her core clenched and she licked her lips, her heart pounding faster the closer he came.

When he reached the bed, he grabbed her, pulling her up into his arms in one swift move and fixed her legs around his waist.

“My lord, I need to—”

Holding her firm against him, one large hand spread beneath her bottom, he ripped away her tunic. Elora yelped, gripping onto his flexing arms to make sure she didn’t fall. His aggression thrilled her almost as much as it frightened her.

“When you enter this room, I want you naked,” he growled, his frown making the demand seem like a threat.

“I need to talk to you,” Elora said, trying to take advantage of his willingness to speak.

The beast brushed his hand over her inner thighs, reaching for her slit. Her slick was already dripping, and it coated his fingers as he played with the bundle tucked within her folds. At the same time, he pressed his nose along her jawline and dipped down to her neck to lap it with his tongue. Elora shuddered, the multiple sensations swarming her becoming almost impossible to resist. She gripped onto him harder. “Please. It is important.”

“You may speak to me on my knot,” the beast said finally. A gleam entered his eyes. “If you are able to remain awake.”

Elora frowned at him, but his blunt cock prodded at her entrance and she tensed knowing what was to come.

He nibbled at her neck, pricking her with his teeth and lapping along her sensitive skin to kiss behind her ear. She relaxed, allowing him to hold her up. In that moment he eased her down onto him, filling her up in a long and seemingly never-ending stroke, stretching her wide, as her legs flailed and her body twitched with discomfort.

Elora gasped, barely able to think while impaled with such enormous thickness. But when he began to move her back and forth on him, rotating her hips as he squeezed her ass, every thought, every concern she had fell away.

He worked her hard, plundering between her legs as she dug her nails into his biceps, her toes curled tight as the addictive euphoria spiraled up her core, stiffening her nipples and coaxing out moans and grunts she didn’t recognize as her own.

And it wasn’t just her; the beast’s sultry rasp, sometimes punctuated by a string of words from his language, kept her tuned into him. Raising into a crescendo that she couldn’t escape from, Elora climaxed. Hot, burning, consuming, slimy and raw, Elora was a mass of fleshy sensations, unable to maintain her sanity.

Then they were on the bed, and hours passed. He opened her up, twisting her into the most obscene positions, shunting himself inside her as he grunted and roared with pleasure, biting her nipples, squeezing the fleshy flabs of her thighs. Elora could feel his pleasure within her own. When his tongue grazed her bundle, her stomach, her neck—when he made her moan and twist and arch for more, his satisfaction was evident in his sharp intake of breath, and the rumble emitting from the back of his throat.

When he finally knotted her, a thought surfaced at the back of her mind, urging her to remember, but surrounded by the warmth of his body, she was unable to resist the lure of blissful oblivion.

When she woke again, he was smothering her with his body, dried blood flaking onto her face. She shifted underneath him, turning onto her side to try and ease out from under him, but the ache in her body was overwhelming. She lay there, catching her breath trying to ignore the acrid ripeness of their coupling that permeated the room.

The beast’s arm twitched and when she turned to look at him, he was staring right back at her.

Elora froze, a shock of fear gripping her lungs, but he didn’t have the fierce fury that had been in his eyes earlier. In fact, he looked different now that night had fallen and anger didn’t dominate his features. Indeed he was a hulking man, muscled and broad, but when he was relaxed, it was easier to see the subtleties of his features… the slight crook in his nose, the pride in the sternness of his lips, and the intelligence in his spectacular eyes—there was a man behind the beast.

She gazed at him, entranced by the sight, and he watched her back intently.

Without warning, the alpha rose from the bed, lifting her with him, and strode across the room. Elora clung onto him, unsure what he was going to do next. He fixed her so her legs wrapped around his waist again and she winced at the pain that rocked over her.

Tucked into the side of the room was a large washroom with charcoal grey walls. The dragorai pressed something on the side of the wall, and the ceiling shifted causing a sleek wall of water to fall over a high ledge.

The dragorai gathered up soap in the hand that wasn’t holding her close to him, then he walked straight under the stream. The warm water soaked them both, washing away the caked-on blood, sweat, and seed.

Elora sighed at the feel of the warmth on her muscles but was surprised when the alpha began to lather the soap over her body. She tried to take the soap from him, but he wouldn’t allow it, pushing her hand away with a warning growl. She stared at him confused. Why would he wash her? It didn’t seem like the kind of thing a dragorai would do for a kon’aya. And then she remembered.

“I need to talk to you,” she said tentatively.

He didn’t even bother to look at her. “Too late.”

Elora’s eyes widened, remembering he only gave her permission to speak on his knot. She scowled. “I-I was tired.”

The dragorai snorted.

“Please, I have a question about my… transgressions.”

He said nothing while continuing to lather her right thigh.

“You told me that I must pay off my debt,” Elora said, continuing anyway. “Does that mean I am part of your lair until that debt is paid?”

He didn’t reply, focusing on rubbing the soap over her leg, cleaning away the remnants of their sex.

Elora offered a smile. “Please. I need to know what my position is here.”

The dragorai didn’t answer. He washed her other leg, her torso, her arms, and the round cheeks of her ass.

“All I’m asking for is a role,” she said quietly as he washed her feet. “A position among your lair staff.”

The dragorai didn’t even bother to look at her. After he washed her, he placed her down on her feet, pausing when he realized she was wincing from the pain between her legs. He headed back over to the ledge where the soap was kept and picked up a different one and then carefully washed between her legs. Embarrassment threaded through Elora that he was doing such a thing, but he refused to allow her the soap, gripping her wrists to keep her hands out of the way.

Incredibly enough, he was careful. It must have been a potion-made soap because as he lathered, the sharpness of the pain lessened.

Elora sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

He turned her back to him and began to lather her hair.

“I don’t know if you think I’m not deserving of a position or not capable or trustworthy,” she said, “but I can do any position you see fit. I can help in the kitchens or I can help the stewards.” She shrugged. “You are already treating me like my role in the last lair. You can give me that role If you wish.”

The dragorai’s hands froze on her scalp. “What role?”

“kon’aya,” Elora said. “I can be your kon’aya here too.”

Before she could even take another breath, her back slammed against the rough wall, his fingers digging into her jaw as he stepped in close, another face full of fury. “You were a kon’aya for my brother?”

Elora wasn’t sure how to answer. This was certainly the beast again, but she couldn’t tell what he was angry about. “Yes,” she said, her voice trembling. “But—”

He roared, the fierce sound echoing in the washroom and deafening her. “You told me that you were some kind of steward helper,” he bellowed. “Are you saying you fucked my brother?”

“No!” Her voice sounded thin and quiet next to his. “I was recruited as a kon’aya but I never bed him.”

“That is impossible,” he hollered. “Nyro fucks everything, and I assure you he would not have overlooked you.”

Elora tried to shake her head but he held her jaw even tighter, tears stinging her eyes at his grip. The beast began speaking again, but he didn’t seem to have realized he slipped into his own language. She couldn’t understand him.

Elora watched him closely, every contorted muscle in his face, every tensed muscle in his body, but this was also the man who had just carefully washed her.

She lifted her hand and brought it to his face. The moment her fingers touched his cheek his words petered out into a long rumble in the back of his throat.

“I arrived the same time as his mate. He didn’t want anyone else,” she explained.

“But you wanted him. You just didn’t get the chance.”

“No. It was a… a duty I would have fulfilled.”

“Did he see you naked?” The dragorai’s eyes flashed. “His kon’aya are naked in his lair!”

“No. I only ever met him once when he told me I was to come to your lair, and I was clothed at that time.”

“But you wanted to fuck him.” His shoulders flexed and a strong growl returned. “You were willing to fuck him to stay in his lair.”

Elora stroked her fingers down his cheek and then placed her whole palm on his face. Something changed in his eyes. Tension slowly seeped from his body, and his growl petered out completely.

“Tell me,” he ordered, though he didn’t raise his voice. “You wanted to spend the rest of your life fucking him.”

“No. I just wanted a safe home away from the war.”

He watched her closely. “It is the reason you crossed my land.”

“Yes.”

“Did you prefer his lair?”

Elora held his gaze, knowing she couldn’t lie. “It was different.”

His eyes darkened. Sliding her roughly up the wall, pushing her legs open with his knee. She gasped as he pressed his thickness into her, thrusting to the root and once again stretching her wide to the point of painful pleasure. He fucked her fast and hard against the wall, as though punishing her for her intentions at his brother’s lair. Hooking his arm under her knees he spread her as wide as he could, digging deep inside to claim the deepest depths of her.

Elora panted, her breath huffing out with each merciless thrust. There was no doubt in her mind what this was—it permeated in his scent as soon as she said kon’aya; jealous, volatile possession. It didn’t make any sense to her logical mind—there was no reason for him to be threatened—but that uncontrollable nature in her indulged in his possession, urging him to take what was his and prove his ownership. Her hips thrust forward to meet his frenzied slams, but when she brushed a thumb over his nipple he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head as he battered her body to a swift and scorching climax, but he didn’t let her go or touch her to give her any further pleasure. And she understood. This wasn’t about her pleasure, it was a claim over her.

When he finally knotted her, driving the enlarged base of his cock into her and locking them together, he stilled.

“You said you made others happy in my brother’s lair,” he thundered as she tried to catch her breath. “Was that with your kon?” He flicked his hips, agitating his knot inside her.

“No!” Elora gasped, uncomfortable. “I just tried to be a good friend and make people feel….”

“Make them feel what?” he bellowed.

“Like they were not alone.” Her voice was trembling.

The dragorai watched her closely, those stormy eyes flicking across her face. “Why?”

Exhaustion was beginning to crept into Elora’s body but she needed to make him understand. “The war made us feel like we were.”

“That is not the reason.”

Elora swallowed. “It’s not the only reason,” she admitted. How did he know? “I wanted it to be a home too. For me and them.”

That seemed to appease him. Pulling her off the wall, his arm keeping her close to him on his knot, the dragorai stepped back under the stream and finished washing her hair and then washed himself. Elora waited until he’d dried them both and carried her back into his chambers and to his bed.

“Please would you consider a position for me—”

The dragorai climbed on top of her, pressing his elbows on either side of her head as he loomed over her. “I will give you a position once you admit to me how you evaded detection on my range.”

Elora squinted as she looked up at him. “Evaded detection?”

“How did you do it?”

Elora shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. I just crossed through—”

“Do not lie to me.” His nostrils flared. “No one has managed to cross my range undetected. No one. Tell me how you did it. Do you speak Thrakondarian? Did you use an incantation?”

“No,” Elora breathed. “I don’t know any magic. I just kept moving and found shelter at night in some of the caves—”

“You will remain indebted to me until you tell me how you did it,” he said harshly. “And you will not earn a position until your debt is paid.”

Elora’s heart dropped. “Why would you do that?” she managed to whisper. “I have admitted my wrongdoing—I have no reason to lie.”

“Maybe you intend to fool me again—have someone else invade my land—or maybe you’re planning an escape.”

So that was it. He thought she’d fooled him, and of course he would hate that idea. This was about his pride and nothing more. The dragorai were known for their pride just as much as their arrogance, superior strength, territorial nature, and sexual appetite. They had very little weaknesses, so their pride and ego were considered justified by some. But he clearly didn’t realize that she would never willingly return to the war—no one would.

This dragorai also seemed suspicious and highly offended by her, beyond the fact that she crossed his land, but she didn’t know why. And without knowing that, how was she to convince him?

The dragorai lowered to nuzzle her neck, breathing her in again, and Elora sighed, enjoying his proximity and how she was caged in by his body. The contradictions of their interactions didn’t escape her—she took comfort in him and feared him, he terrorized her and healed her. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Mama had told her what it was like with an alpha, and this wasn’t it. This was dangerous and carnal and even perverse. The only explanation was that this man was a dragorai-alpha, a being from ancient times. He wasn’t supposed to be with her in this way—he was supposed to be with female dragorai. There were stories of mortal women going insane after being with a dragorai, and now she understood why.

A new thought occurred to her. Where was Zendyor’s kon’ayas? He must have some in the lair somewhere. She needed to coexist here without him making her a shell of herself, but she needed friends to do that. Befriending his kon’ayas should help. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about all the people she’d lost when she was forced to come here. If she wasn’t careful she would lose herself too. But there was only so much she could withstand.

So when Zendyor leisurely tongued her nipple and lowered to bury his head between her legs, she allowed herself to get lost in him. Just for now.