Rake My Lust (Dragons of Blood and Bone #3)

13. Tirade

13

TIRADE

A s we stare at the heavily warded items in their glass box up in Strom’s tower apartment, he heaves a sigh. I glance over and he takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine as he lifts my hand to kiss it. The oddest smile is on his face; through our bond, I feel a bemused confusion from him. Bjorn feels it, as well. He glances over, penetrating the third of our trio with an intense look until Strom finally looks at him.

“What?” Strom lifts an eyebrow at Bjorn.

“You tell us. You’re the one who’s stewing.” Bjorn keeps Strom locked in his gaze.

“That went both better and worse than I hoped,” Strom says as he glances at us. Still wearing his bemused smile, he kisses my hand again, then shakes his head. “It’s not the first time my great-grandfather has considered killing me because of something rash I’ve done. To hear so many revelations about him and my family in a single night, though… to call it overwhelming is an understatement.”

“All of us are learning far more about our families than we ever wanted to know.” Bjorn scowls now, as I feel him think about his father and how he killed Bjorn’s beloved little sister, Astrid. Probably because he was afraid she would become too powerful and supplant him, thanks to being a Bloodwalker.

Everything Jarl Jorg and Strom’s Grandma Annika said tonight was just as overwhelming for Bjorn and me as it was for Strom. We stare at the artifacts in their box again.

All heaving deep sighs.

Aesa’s Truthstone hums on my chest then, as if supporting us in the midnight hour. As it does, I absently put a hand to it; glancing over, Strom watches it with a penetrating gaze as Bjorn scowls.

“What did you tell Aesa?” Strom asks as he looks at me. “To get that thing embedded in your chest?”

“I told her the truth about us hunting the Black Dragon, and that I would go to the ends of the earth and back to kill it,” I say now as I glance at him, curious about what he and Bjorn said to Aesa also, to convince her of their inner truths. “You?”

“She pried into my missing memories, and I told her I would never be whole until I opened up every one of them, even though I’m terrified to do it. That I’d never be a good enough mate for you until I do, even though you think I already am,” Strom says as he looks at me. I feel his sincerity as I thread my fingers through his now, and he kisses my hand again.

“Bjorn?” I glance at him, to find him simmering as he watches Aesa’s Truthstone upon my breast.

“I told her I would avenge Astrid’s death,” he says, as his gaze flicks from the stone to me. His gold eyes burn, though his dragon-aura is quiet, exhausted like us. “She asked me if I loved my father. I told her I did, even though I know I’ll still take his life someday, because my people deserve better.”

His gaze goes long then, however, as I sense with a deep inner instinct he’s not telling us the whole truth.

Aesa’s stone flashing with a red rune upon my breast, and all through me.

“Bjorn?” I ask him, and his gaze flicks back to me, from where it had yet again gone to the stone.

“She also asked me…” He heaves a deep breath. “Whether my love was stronger than my hate. If I would rather follow you in our quest, or kill my father for vengeance. I knew it wasn’t a choice for me. The answer was following you. Always.”

As Bjorn admits his truth to me, a deep love fills me. I move to him, threading my arms around his strong waist as I gaze up into his beautiful gold-lavender eyes.

He sighs hard, then gives in, kissing my lips. It lingers, so sweet from my strong, rageful mate.

As he admits the deepest truth of his life—that his love and his bonds to me are stronger than his hate for this father.

As I cinch in close to Bjorn and he holds me, Strom comes to us. He takes my hand, gently pulling me from our cozy cuddle as he nods for Bjorn to come, too.

Now heading for the bedroom.

“What about the box? Shouldn’t we look at the altar items tonight and start going over them?” Bjorn balks as I’m tugged away by Strom towards his modern glass and chrome bedroom with its beautiful white silberskrae timbers and stone.

The big bedroom is next to the main living area with its wealth of towering bookshelves and display cases, and features a massive king-plus-sized bed by the far vault, with a spectacular view over the midnight palace and city out the tower’s vaulted windows.

“You can. Rikyava and I are going to bed. It’s late and I’m pooped.” Strom calls back over his shoulder now as he tugs me to his gargantuan bed with its fluffy white duvet and taupe silk sheets. Only soft spotlights are lit throughout the bedroom now in the midnight hour.

Turning around, Strom threads the fingers of both hands through mine as he pulls me close, winding my arms around his waist. He puts his arms up over my shoulders and kisses me, slow and deep .

And my drakaina melts inside with passion.

It’s been a long time; or at least, it feels like a long time. None of us have made love since we were here last, nearly a week ago, before all the shit up in Magnussen lands went down.

Scratch that. We made love inside the altar at Unhaemmerten as we were on death’s door, thinking we were going to be dragon-wight dinner soon, if such bone-dead things even eat. That, however, was a last-ditch effort to go out with a bang before we died.

Not exactly romantic—though this is, as Strom kisses me in slow delight.

It’s calm, and deep, and it’s everything I love about him as I revel in it. I let him hold me close as we kiss with lips and tongue, just letting our bodies process everything our brains and emotions have gone through recently, not to mention tonight.

As Strom and I kiss, his fingers tracing up and down my spine over my little plum cocktail dress, Bjorn comes to us. He doesn’t interrupt our moment; just sits on the bed, falling back to his elbows with a hard huff on the duvet.

Bjorn is fetching in any position, but even more so when he lounges back on his elbows, and I just have to look. Though Strom’s kissing is decadent, his hard, lean body pressed against mine in his slim jacket, turtleneck, and jeans, Bjorn is just a hot slab of beefcake as he leans back in his dark navy suit and black tie, showing the powerful body the gods gave him.

He loosens his tie, then flings it off as Strom kisses my neck. Bjorn’s all tight, rippling pecs, biceps, and abs. I can see them perfectly now as his white shirt draws tight in his current position. He sees me staring at him, perusing every hot plane and ridge. Then he changes position—sitting up to shuck his jacket off and his shirt up over his head in two quick, fluid motions.

Then settling back down on the bed.

“No fair,” I say as my pulse pounds, heat flooding my veins as my drakaina growls deep inside. Wetness slicks me as Bjorn lifts a sexy eyebrow.

“All is fair in love and war.” He’s pragmatic, though I can see a little Bjorn-smile curling his lips now from how much he just aroused me.

“We’re not at war, Bjorn. At least, not yet.” Strom releases me with a kiss to the lips, heading over to sit on the bed as well. Shucking his shoes and jacket, he stretches out like a cat in such a perfect imitation I think I might just hear him purr. Like Bjorn, Strom shucks his thin black turtleneck off over his head.

Leaning back on his hands and showing all the tight, perfectly cut muscles the gods gave him.

“ Really no fair.” I grin as I take them both in, my two ridiculously hot drakes naked from the waist up now, as I shake my head. I plant my hands on my hips as I beam at them. “You both are just two peas in a pod.”

“ Hot peas in a pod.” Strom juts his chin at me. “Your turn.”

“Hey, I’m wearing a dress.” I purse my lips at him. “When it comes off, it comes all the way off. You both have the advantage of multi-piece clothing.”

“So. Strip,” Bjorn growls as he smoulders, giving me his darkest, hottest look from beneath his level eyebrows as he takes me in from the bed. He shifts position, but it does nothing except flex all those massive, hard muscles in a rippling wave that I just love. I stare, but then Strom laughs, and his sexily cut abdomen does this dance I can’t even begin to explain.

Making me heat hard to fuck—all damn night.

“I think she needs a little motivation, don’t you, Bjorn?” Strom chuckles now as he sits up on the bed. He reaches down, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. Then, pushing his hips up, he shucks his jeans in a long, fast wave. Strom goes commando, often. I know he has underwear, but he doesn’t prefer to wear them, as everything comes out now for me to ogle.

And I do, because Strom’s cock is massive, unaroused or fully erect. It’s at half-staff right now, jutting up from a lovely curling of ash-blond hair below.

But fills more, straight and hard, as he watches me.

“You are just an exhibitionist, aren’t you?” I tease him, because I know he is. Ever since we first met in the Kingsguard, I’ve known that about him—that he was never embarrassed to be naked in front of me, not even that very first day. Strom likes his body, and he likes to be seen.

Especially by women of the fighting variety.

Bjorn is no less impressive in stature, though he’s always been quite a lot more prudish. But his hesitation melts away now as he observes the hot connection Strom and I share.

Not to be outdone, the competitive side of Bjorn rises. I feel his massive golden drake rush through the room in a hot wave now as he growls, then reaches down to undo his pants and heave them off, as well. His incredible thighs and shelf ass come out to play now.

Not to mention his thick, perfectly proportioned cock.

I stare at both my drakes now, scalding, as I shake my head. My drakaina is spinning through me, so hot I feel like I’m shedding fire from my skin as a roaring gold-red aura lifts all around me.

Blood Dragons can’t make fire, but I feel like I’m burning up straight from within now, as that blistering sensation rages through me. It’s so strong, I have to set a hand to my chest.

As I feel Aesa’s silver stone scald upon my skin.

“Ow!” I pull my hand away as I touch it. Though it doesn’t burn the skin it’s embedded in, it feels like it’s responding to my inner drakaina, searing massive waves of heat and light throughout my body as it reacts to my arousal with my mates.

I sway, overcome by all that heat and light as my vision washes white. I feel my black drake surge up like a leviathan of the Void then, trying to wrestle all that searing white-gold light back.

Biting it and hauling it down from swamping me.

“Whoa…!” I don’t even realize I’ve swooned right into Bjorn’s arms un til I come back. My vision finally clears from the searing blaze that took me; but I’m shaking hard now, shivering with a diabolical heat as Strom rushes up from the bed to steady me.

They hold me together now, Strom lithe at my front and Bjorn strong at my back. But I’m burning up as I stand between them, like I have a fever of a hundred and fifty degrees.

Blazing towards that endless white, as I lose control and collapse into Bjorn’s arms again.

“Rikyava! Yava! ” I hear Bjorn shout, even as I register Strom’s hand slapping my cheek.

“Yeah! I’m here.” I blink back to awareness, even as I register Bjorn hefting me up into his big, strong arms and carrying me to the bed. As Bjorn puts me down, sitting on the bed beside me, Strom crawls onto the bed also, taking my pulse. Strom scowls, the red brimstone of his dragon in his eyes now as he watches me.

Peering first in my one eye, then the other.

“Something’s going on inside her, with that stone,” Strom says as I feel the barest edge of his Bone Magic reach me. I know he’s trying to calm me with his magic, but it just isn’t working this time.

Something deep inside my power roaring, in a resonance with Aesa’s stone embedded in my chest.

“Her Blood Magic is blazing, too.” I barely hear Bjorn’s dark growl as I feel him pour his power through our bond also, trying to fight this massive resonance back. Waves of scalding Bloodlight simmer from me now, white and red in my united Bloodwalker power, and gold. “I’m barely reaching her. She’s just… too strong, with that thing in her chest.”

“Think we can pry it out?” I feel Strom touch the silver stone. But even as I think, Don’t! that scalding energy concentrates in the stone, the thing flashing all red as sigils consume it.

Burning Strom as he touches it—so much I smell flesh sizzle.

“Fuck!” Strom shakes his hand, using his power to heal his sudden burn. “I can’t touch it. Fucker’s too hot. ”

“It’s not burning her, but she’s got a vicious fever.” Bjorn shakes his head. “We need to cool her down—and the bed’s not going to do it. Bathtub?”

“I know something better. Come on.”

As Strom speaks, I feel Bjorn heave me up into his arms. I’m still way out there with my power, though, searing as my inner world blazes white, with flickers of darkness as my Bone Magic struggles to control it.

Waves of magic, light, and Bloodwind whirl all around me now as my Bloodwalker power roars. Whatever alchemy is happening inside me, thanks to Aesa’s stone, it’s too much for my magic to control, or my drakes.

I had thought I was finding some balance in my Bloodwalker energy since I bound Strom. Now I know it was just the calm before the storm, as my sudden resonance with Aesa’s Truthstone makes my power roar.

Insane, as I pass out.

I wake in ice-cold water, lapping all around me as waves crash upon a towering cliff wall. It’s deep midnight, the moon bright as two sets of warm arms cradle me in the surging water.

I smell brine, seaweed, and detritus; as I come to, I feel the deep pull of the ocean all around. Held in a cozy nook next to a cliff, I’m cradled between Bjorn and Strom as they use their muscles and power to keep us in the cliff nook and not get swept out to sea by the powerful tide.

Cradling me, as they rock me with the ocean.

My body’s cooling, my power settling, and it’s bliss as they hold me. I listen to the sound of the ocean crashing all around as it hits the cliff, and to the fainter sounds of my drakes’ hearts and breath.

They’re not in human form but shifted up, needing the power of their dragon’s muscles to hold me safe against the surge of the waves. I’m warm and cold all at the same time, a decadent combination, as I’m cradled in their devouring scales.

Feeling their bodies move with the roll of the ocean, and their breath.

They feel me wake. With a growl, Bjorn lifts his head, setting his scaled cheek against mine and heaving a relieved breath. Strom is no different, as he lifts his head before me, nuzzling my nose, then pressing me with his scaled lips.

I find his lips, and kiss him, human lips to dragon. He shifts down then, holding us in the ocean with only his power now as Bjorn maintains his dragon form to keep us steady.

Strom puts his arms around me, giving me a deep look in the night; concerned, his dark frown is something I rarely see from him, but makes everything inside me pay attention.

As he speaks, shouting over the crash of the waves.

“Rikyava! We need to take Aesa’s Truthstone out of you! It’s doing something to your Bloodwalker magic—something Bjorn and I can feel searing through you, but is too strong for any of us to control!”

“No!” I shout back, covering the silver stone on my chest with my hand on instinct, though I don’t know why. “I need it!”

It’s killing you. Bjorn’s dragon rumble beside me comes with a mate-bonded thought, as he nuzzles my cheek. It’s making your Bloodwalker magic go ballistic, your brighter Blood Magic drakaina out-of-balance now with your darker Bone Magic drake. Aesa’s stone is pushing your Blood Magic hard, with some sort of resonance I don’t understand. I can do nothing to stop it.

“Can’t you do something to control it, Strom?” I shout at him now, since Strom is the one who can enhance my Bone Magic through our resonance.

“I’ve tried!” He cups my face with his hand. “Whatever is happening, it’s too strong for me to resonate with your Bone Magic and bolster that part of you! Believe me… I’ve been trying.”

“Try again!” I shout at him as I grip his waist. “Please!”

“Here goes…” Strom gives me an eyeball, but he does as I’ve asked. As he closes his eyes, I feel him spiral deep inside, where his Bone Magic lives, to the powerful creature of darkness and wrath inside him.

As he finds our connection to my own wrathful black Bone Magic drake, I feel him flood his magnificent power into our resonance. But even as our alchemy rushes in a dark wave through the cold midnight air, my darkest magic rising and fighting for dominance over this scalding brightness inside me, something happens.

Something from the Truthstone blazes inside me so hard I scream. I arch in Strom’s arms and Bjorn’s coils, blistering with pain as white starbursts go off everywhere within, flooded with red. Recoil from that incredible power hits Strom through our connection. He gives a short cry of pain as that backlash hits him.

Then shudders to his roots—as something inside him is blasted wide open.

I feel it as memories cascade through Strom, so fast they’re just a flicker of images in my mind. It’s like what happened to him when he sent his tattoos to his great-grandfather, but a hundredfold now, as something deep inside him gets broken by Aesa’s Truthstone.

As Strom tried to use his Bone Magic on me just now, it resonated so hard with Aesa’s silver stone that something unlocked inside him. With a terrible scream, Strom jolts, gripping his head as a tirade of memories blisters him.

Lost memories from Copenhagen—missing all these decades.

I feel it as memories of when he ran with a ring of magical thieves in Denmark in his youth go seething through Strom in a tirade now. They’re memories he’s only ever experienced in nightmares; nothing he can recall by day—until now.

As he shifts up into his dragon from the diabolical pain and disorientation of that vast recall dumping into him, it’s all Bjorn and I can do to control him. As Strom thrashes in the water, churning up the ocean until it seethes all around us in a vicious froth, I also have to shift up fast into my drakaina to keep from being crushed.

Because Strom is not home right now in his dragon’s brimstone green eyes as he heaves, fights, and thunders.

Smashing his head against the rocky cliff, over and over .

Bjorn and I curl around him, lightning-fast. Though I still feel terrible from whatever’s happening inside me with Aesa’s stone, it’s nothing compared to what’s happening inside Strom as he heaves, fights, and tries to bash his blocky head against the cliffs.

He keens now, as I feel agony roar inside him. He can’t make sense of the visions that have taken him, can’t sort out the memories that have flooded back, too fast, provoked by him trying to dig into Aesa’s stone with his power.

It’s tearing him apart now from the inside out. Bjorn and I have no choice but to knock him out. As I cinch around Strom’s lithe, firm body in the surging ocean, Bjorn grips his body tight around Strom’s neck. Bjorn coils up hard like a boa constrictor, quick and professional, having done this hundreds of times for other dragons in the military and Kingsguard who got out of control from intense training.

It’s a fast, strong hold, and Strom chokes out. Together, we heave him up from the water, flying him back up the cliffs to the Old Palace. I feel like hot garbage as we make it to the landing plaza next to Strom’s tower; he’s shifted back down to human now, thankfully, since he passed out, and Bjorn has no trouble carrying him as we both shift down.

Bjorn heaves Strom to the magical portal that will get us back up inside Strom’s rooms. Though Strom’s passed out, the magic of the portal recognizes Bjorn and me; in a trice, we’re back inside Strom’s glass and chrome apartment.

His eyelashes finally flicker open.

“What the fuck just happened?” Strom asks, bleary as he comes to.

“Too much,” Bjorn rumbles as his entire body vibrates with a growl. “And all of it is bad.”