Rylin's Fire (8 page)

Devastated, she refused to let him see her hurt. His words burned with the same intensity his touch had during their magical night together but without the passion and love. No, this burn seared across her heart, leaving an aching void. Dara straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t beg. She’d spent enough looking for a husband. Twenty grand was more than sufficient. This trip wouldn’t cost her her heart too.

“Go!” He snapped and Dara jumped.

Digging deep, she yelled, “Fuck you, Rylin!”

She stumbled out of his office, barely able to stand straight but made a point to slam the door as hard as she could. Tears clogged her throat but she refused to let them fall. Dara made it a few steps before anger snapped her spine straight. No. She wouldn’t let him do this to her. To them. Her heart wouldn’t hurt any less by walking away without a fight. Damn him. This wasn’t the man she’d fallen for. He’d never have pushed her away with such ice in his eyes.

Standing in the hall, her back to the wall Dara let her mind replay the last few moments. Nothing in his demeanor prior to Willow’s mating had hinted that he wanted to end things. What could have happened in that short frame of time?

The murders. His people were being killed. Could this be Rylin’s effort to protect her? Her heart swelled at the possibility.

Chapter 13

The slamming of the door behind Dara echoed around his chambers. As soon as she left, Ry snarled and swiped his arm across the surface of his desk, sending everything crashing to the floor. It wasn’t enough. His essence ascended so quickly Ry had no time to brace and was swept beneath the force of his Dracol’s will.

Rylin threw back his head, the muscles in his neck straining as he released another roar. Exhaling sharply, every breath hissed from his throat with a curl of smoke. The taste of ash was bitter on his tongue with the need to release the fire building. He lowered his head and stared at the spot where Dara last stood. He’d angered and hurt her with his words. It was necessary, he reminded himself. He had to hurt her enough to convince her to go.

That had been his intentions, but it didn’t mean seeing the pain flash across her features had stung any less. Tipping his chin up to catch the slight breeze drifting through the open window Ry, blocked out the expression on Dara’s face. He couldn’t let his heart linger on what he’d done.

But it burned. Burned all the way to his gut and Ry found himself gritting his teeth to keep from charging after her.

“No,” he muttered under his breath. Then it would be for naught.

Rylin walked toward the large plate window taking up one wall. Normally the sight of his fellow Dracol in flight would relax him. Inside he yearned to join them. Anything to escape the smoldering pain of not having Dara.

It had been hard not seeing her for two days, but if she took his words to heart, he’d never see her again. Never gaze upon her beauty again. Two days would be a drop in time compared to the lonely decades ahead of him.

Someone had covered her face in the tribal paint of a mating ceremony. Each line had drawn his gaze and Ry could imagine how she’d look with the added ink beneath her cheek to represent her own mating.

Now he’d have none of that.

***

Dara reentered the room unnoticed. Rylin stared out of the window offering a magnificent view of the sky and clouds, thanks to having his home built in the mountains. His pants molded to his taut butt and the muscles in his back flexed when he shifted to brace his palms on the glass.

Her heart stuttered and Dara breathed slowly through her nose as she observed the fine form of the man who held her heart and pricked holes in it at the same time.

As if sensing her presence at last, his head tipped to the side and without turning he asked in a low rasp, “Are you leaving? Going back to your world?”

“I’m not letting you chase me away that easy.” Dara pasted a smile on her face despite her lip wobble.

“Have your say, Earth woman and be gone.” The garbled words came out in Rylin’s voice and yet not. There was an edge of danger to the gravelly tone.

“I’m not leaving.”

He turned in one smooth motion and lifted a brow. “I didn’t expect you to be foolish. Is it so hard to believe I don’t want you?”

Dara hated the sardonic smirk twisting his lips. This wasn’t the man she’d spent the night with. She moved closer. His body drew taut, resisting. But she continued. “You’re a liar, Rylin, King of the Black Dracol.”

She ran a hand up his chest, lingering to prod his stiff nipples. “You want me. This is your misguided attempt to protect me.”

“Then you don’t care if you live or die.”

Dara slid to her knees, hands tracing over his quivering abdomen. “I can protect myself,” she whispered right before taking a firm grasp of his shaft.

Rylin groaned, hips rocking forward. Dara opened the flap of his leather pants. His chest rose and fell in pants. “I trust that you’ll find who’s doing this and you won’t let them get me.”

He hardened, pulsed in her hand. The spongy underside grew hot to the touch but Rylin’s silence was daunting. Dara’s heart pumped heavily. Fear, trepidation, so many thoughts coursed through her.

“And if I fail?” he finally asked.

Dara trembled beneath the power of the glare aimed in her direction. “We shared something special that night. I have faith in you.”

His eyes glittered, but not once did she break his stare.

Dara wasn’t ashamed to resort to pleading. “I want to be by your side. You said you wanted me as your
lira
. Your mate.”

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to her feet. “You want to die? Because that’s what the rogue wants. He’s attacking any
lira
and those close to the kings are especially in danger.”

Flames flicked from his fingertips and black scales covered one side of his face before fading back to the familiar skin tones.

“Don’t push me away, Rylin.” Dara took a step in his direction, undeterred by the partial shift. Their bodies pressed tight together.

 His eyes brightened to a polished sheen. Dara squirmed beneath his cutting look but held her ground.

“I’m staying,” she said again. Firmly.

His hand whipped out and clasped her neck, the touch gentle despite the rapid action. “You’ve no idea what you’re doing. The danger is-”

“To both of us,” she cut in. “You said this person is killing
liras
and now he’s looking to hurt you and your friends.”

Ry gave a derisive snort. “The other Kings aren’t my friends.”

She tossed her hand about. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.” His head lowered and Dara held her breath until the first touch of his lips to hers. Whisper soft kisses floated across her mouth. Her cheeks then glided over her eyes until she closed them.

“Rylin,” she murmured, bringing her arms about his neck.

When his fingers tightened on her hair and tilted her head back, Dara gasped. The air crackled with energy, and not all of it good. He pressed his face into the side of her neck and breathed. Just breathed. Hot moisture dotted her skin as he dragged in a ragged breath.

“Nothing,” he growled. “Nothing, must happen to you.”

“It won’t.”

Rylin straightened. “I swear on the Goddess of Fate that my wrath will have no bounds and blood will fill my belly if it does.”

Dara shivered. “A girl couldn’t ask for more.”

He snorted, but a small smile graced his face. “You’re a stubborn one. We need to return to the mating party. My presence is expected.”

Dara clasped his hand and swung their arms. “I’m ready.”      

He snatched her up in his arms after a few steps outside of his rooms and raced back to the throne room.

“Rylin!”

People turned at their approach. Her cheeks flamed at his antics.

***

Stares turned in their direction at their return. Ry didn’t care. He lowered Dara down his body, enjoying each glide of her curves against him. His shaft hardened and he crushed her to him with a groan.

“I’ve missed you.”

Her palm smacked his shoulders. Pleasure and relief lit her gaze. “Don’t do this again.”

Because concern for her governed his actions, Ry eased back to face her. “Whoever is doing this is deadly and has no remorse.”

“How many women total have died?” Her tiny brows formed a crease at the middle and her nose scrunched.

Ry’s hands drifted to clasp her hips, unable to stop touching her. His Dracol craved the contact. “Nineteen women across the various sects found dead. Three are my own and sixteen from the others.”

She didn’t back down. She looked pissed. His very own spitfire.

“That’s terrible. What are you going to do?”

Before Ry could share his plans, shouts erupted around them and the floor vibrated beneath his bare feet. Ry spun around as the door to the mating chamber slammed open, revealing the only man he knew taller than him.

Shoulder-length purple hair waved back from a harsh face. Gold eyes shifted from light to dark in a maddening pattern. Water glistened on the newcomer’s bronze skin as he made his way through, clomping over the tile floor with the heavy thud of his boots.

Ry slid in front of Dara, his gaze searching the room rapidly. He delved into the mantle, seeking one female’s presence in particular. Breya.

His fellow King ignored the row of Black forming, barring him from going further and keeping a wall of separation between him and Ry.

Konlan’s gaze met Ry’s and he jolted from the small thread of madness he sensed beyond those flashing golden eyes. “Where?”

One word. One question. But it was all Ry needed. He knew exactly why Kon was here.

Chapter 14

Dara wrapped her fingers into the material of Rylin’s vest, staring at the tall man with the flowing purple hair down his back. King of the Purple sect, if she were to guess.

“Where?” he demanded in a gravelly voice.

Heat flowed from Rylin’s body, warming her hands. “You’ve interrupted a mating, Konlan. Have you no well wishes for the couple?”

Dara wasn’t sure how Rylin managed to keep his voice contained. The newcomer presented a frightening image. His features were rough hewn, his mouth twisted with savage cruelty. The purple silk at his hips clung to his powerful legs, stopping just short of his knees.

The fabric was damp in places, rendering it practically see through, and Dara flushed at the visible evidence of his potency. He stared at the men blocking his path and hissed. “Move.”

Goosebumps broke out on Dara’s arms.

“Let him through,” Ry ordered and the men parted down the middle, clearing a path.

Step by step the huge man, approached and Dara resisted the urge to run. Taking a deep breath, she eased to the side of Rylin despite his attempts to hide her.

“Where. Is. She?” Konlan breathed out and shook his head like a wild beast, his purple hair settling about his bare shoulders.

Rylin tensed and lowered his voice. “This isn’t the way, Kon. You know it.”

Pain flashed across the glowering face and the snarl faded. There were undercurrents there. Something Dara couldn’t catch, but clearly Rylin was aware. Around them, Rylin’s people ushered everyone out. Across the room, Willow’s gaze met hers, though Arwen tugged on her arm. Dara sent her a reassuring smile and after another moment, her friend allowed her new mate to take her through the door with the rest of those fleeing.

Konlan continued to bore holes through Rylin with his eyes. At last he spoke, his voice raspy. “Someone is killing
liras
.”

Rylin nodded. “Yes. But
she’s
fine.”

Another brief glimpse of hurt in those golden eyes. Then a shudder ran through the big man and he seemed to regain his composure. All expression blanked from Konlan’s features. “My people are making their way home, but I’ve attended to those who stay at my stronghold. I didn’t sense an unbalanced essence.”

“Varyk and Faris reported the same, but someone among us is terrorizing females. Mated females.”

The reminder had Konlan’s head turning as he searched the remaining people not bothering to hide their interest in the meeting between the two men. Dara had a clear view of his back. Purple scales tinted in silver with black striations lined his spine.

“We’ll go to my rooms and speak privately, Kon.” Rylin reached for Dara and directed her out the opposite door she’d used to enter the room. To her surprise, the Purple King followed behind them.

They were almost out. Almost away from whatever volatile situation sent the angry man stalking into the mating ceremony to begin with.

Then Kon came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped up and a film slid over his eyes. Dara froze and Rylin cursed. Kon’s lips moved but Dara couldn’t decipher the word he mumbled.

She followed Kon’s gaze across the room and stared at a woman too beautiful to be true. A little taller than Dara, the blonde stood next to a brown-haired man shooting glares in their direction. He wrapped an arm around the woman’s shoulders when she paused, eyes locked on their group.

“Kon, don’t.” Rylin spoke through gritted teeth.

Smoke swirled from the Purple King’s nostrils. Dara tensed, well familiar with this sign.

“He doesn’t deserve Breya.” Kon never looked away from the couple as he spoke.

When Rylin pushed Dara slightly behind him, she pinched his side. “Breya is mated to Ranald. It is fate.”

Kon’s head jerked around and he shot Rylin a glare. “What was between
us
was fate. She was to be my
lira
and you know this. Something happened to change her mind. Your Black…” Kon’s lips firmed as he finished. “He coerced Brie in some manner.”

“They’ve been mated for a year, Kon.”

The woman cried out, drawing all of their attention. The dark haired man pulled on her arm to get her moving again. Breya, Dara assumed, winced and a dark growl rumbled from Kon’s chest.

“This is how her mate treats her?”

Violence shimmered on the air. Kon fisted his hands at his side and Dara’s heart squeezed in sympathy for whatever he was going through.

Ry continued to hold Kon’s stare. “He has never harmed her. Breya is happy with Ranald. Let it go.”

“Never.” Kon’s voice plummeted to a deep bass with a thread of fury. “I will never let her go.”

His shoulder bumped Rylin’s deliberately as he turned his back on the couple and left through the side door. Rylin stared at the blonde woman until she was gone before clenching his fingers on Dara’s. “Come.”

They followed the path Kon took. The man was well familiar with Rylin’s home and headed straight for the suite of rooms Dara was starting to grow used to.

***

Considering the past, Ry exhaled in relief at Kon’s mild response to the sight of Breya and her mate. While he didn’t agree with her actions when Breya broke things off with Kon without an explanation, she was still one of his and he’d protect her. Even from a man who professed to love her.

“Dairin reported that the males received warning that their
liras
were about to die,” Kon announced as soon as they reached Ry’s sitting room.

Ry tossed his cape aside and sank on a chair, pulling Dara onto his lap despite her protest. He curved his arms about her waist and held her close to his chest. “The three
liras
I lost reached for their mates in the last moments, then the connection was severed.”

Kon didn’t sit, choosing to prop himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he met Ry’s stare. “My males have not reported this. Perhaps it is why we had no awareness that our
liras
were gone.” His gold gaze turned inward.

Ry had worried over that small difference as well. He’d followed up after speaking with Nolan. “From what Varyk and Faris have reported, their
liras
didn’t reach for their mates either. Only mine.”

Kon cocked his head to the side. “You think this is a move against the Black, specifically.”

Ry nodded abruptly and Dara shifted on his lap. His cock hardened and his Dracol stretched in pleasure. He tamped down the urge to lick the olive tinted skin bared at her throat. She stroked a hand down his forearm, fingers soothing him.

“If that’s the case, then what’s the end goal. Why target the other sects?” Not quite doubt but disbelief flashed across Kon’s face.

This was why Ry liked talking with Kon. When it didn’t pertain to Breya, he found his fellow King very rational. Unlike Varyk, who disliked the Black on principle, Kon didn’t leap to conclusions, and unlike Faris, who allowed his emotions free reign, Kon thought matters through. Ry missed the easy friendship they’d shared in the past.

He tightened his arms around Dara as he prepared to acknowledge the possible motivation for the deaths. “Initially, I believe the death of the other
liras
was to turn the sects against me. Only you nor the others noticed the disappearances of the females.”

Kon stiffened, his arms falling to his sides. “Then when he attacked your own…”

“He let them cry out,” Ry filled in. “To be sure I wouldn’t miss it.”

The timing had thrown the killer off though, because Ry had discovered the bodies before his males could report their missing
liras
to him.

Kon leaned away from the wall and paced. Taller and broader than Ry, he radiated power in every step. Ry recalled the earlier days of their friendship before he’d taken the mantle of the Black. Slightly older, Kon had already led the Purple, wearing his mantle with an ease and confidence Ry could only admire. During his visits with King Sarkin, Kon would practice sparring with the Black soldiers.

He took a lot of ribbing when no one had been able to throw him until Ry stepped forward. Kon sent King Sarkin a side glance and the King of the Black merely shrugged his shoulders with an amused smile.

As soon as Kon charged forward, Ry had braced to meet the Purple Dracol while pulling on his essence. In a move he still wondered how he’d executed, Ry planted his booted feet and gripped Kon at the waist when their bodies collided. Using only his upper strength, Ry heaved Kon across the gathered crowd. The tall man hit the ground hard, but was on his feet in seconds with a savage snarl.

Fear took a backseat to his own Dracol nature rising to confront the threat. At their core the two were of opposing sects, and no way would Ry go down in front of his fellow Black. Just when Ry wondered if he was about to be gutted, the large man approached him with his hand outstretched in peace.

They’d been friends ever since, right until Breya refused the mating. Kon’s frequent visits exposed him to the pretty Dracol and he’d fallen for her instantly. Then to everyone’s surprise, Breya announced a week before her mating celebration to Kon that she was accepting Ranald’s suit.

Kon had fallen into a rage, destroying half of the castle and a large track of land. Ranald had tempted fate by coming out to witness the commotion and curling an arm about Breya to shelter her from the madness.

Only Ry’s quick action of stepping in front of Ranald saved him from being torn limb from limb.

Dara’s hand at Ry’s jaw, gently stroking, brought him back to the present. “Can you think of anyone who would want to force the others to think you killed their people?”

She had Kon’s attention. His brows dipped and his voice took on a harsh grate. “Who are you?”

Ry snarled, curling protectively about Dara. His temper flashed. “This is Dara, from Earth. You will respect her.”

They gazed at one another, Kon recognizing the unhidden claim in Ry’s words. Kon inclined his head. “Forgive me.”

Pink stained Dara’s cheeks, but Ry’s pride soared when she bravely sat up and shoved at the forearm he had locked around his waist. “I’m just wondering if all of this is because someone wants to get back at Rylin. Maybe when you all didn’t blame him for the murders, the killer decided to attack the Black Dracol. Kinda like shoving it in his face.”

Ry wondered the same thing and Dara’s statement reaffirmed his belief that the murders directly related to the Black.

“Challenging a Dracol King is foolish. Rylin especially.”

Ry’s brow quirked. He hadn’t expected Kon’s remark. “Why me especially?”

“You may not have taken to the mantle as easily as others, but your essence has fully accepted and merged with the power of the Black. You would make a deadly combatant despite your benevolent nature.”

There had been plenty of times when Ry wasn’t benevolent. The truth remained unspoken between them. The early months of proving his right to rule had been bloody.

“It could be anyone,” Dara speculated.  

Kon grunted. “I must return home, but I will continue to search for the one responsible. If he is among the Purple, I will show no mercy.”

Ry stood and helped Dara to her feet. He and Kon clasped forearms. When Ry sought to pull his arm back, Kon’s grip tightened. His friend’s gold eyes darkened. “You will make sure Breya is protected at all times.”

Ry inhaled sharply. Making such a promise would be difficult to keep. His responsibility was to all of the females in danger. “Kon.”