Eternal Mates 7 - Taken by a Dragon (11 page)

He forced himself to shake his head instead.

“Not yet. There is something I must do first.” He silently pleaded her not to ask the question that rose in her eyes because he didn’t want to frighten her.

The gods must have heard his prayer because she asked another instead.

“Like break these?” She raised her hands between them, the chain that linked her manacles clanking as she moved. Her hopeful smile wobbled on her lips.

“Soon. I must secure the right to break them.” He looked away when she frowned at him, unable to hold her gaze when he knew he was on the verge of making her feel more guilty about what she had done. “I will not be long. You will wait here. No one will hurt you. I swear it, Anais.”

She grabbed his wrists before he could move, the tightness of her grip demanding that he look at her. He closed his eyes and sighed as it struck him that she wasn’t going to release him until she knew what was happening.

“Why do you need to leave?” Her grip on him tightened, squeezing his bones together. “What is it you’re going to do?”

Loke looked over his shoulder at the raised platform where Ren still stood, deep in discussion with Rayna, and then beyond him to Zephyr where he was sharpening his curved blade outside his hut.

He sensed a shift in Anais’s feelings. They turned colder, laced with fear that drew him into looking at her again so he could discover the source of it. Her blue gaze was fixed on Zephyr and he growled under his breath as he thought about that male stepping anywhere near her.

“I am going to win a contest.”

Her eyes leaped back to him and widened. “You mean you’re going to fight.”

“I must. It is the way of my kind. I will secure your freedom, Anais.”

“No,” she barked and dug her short fingernails into his flesh. “You can’t fight to the death for me. It’s barbaric!”

Loke smiled softly. “And I am a barbarian… remember?”

She shook her head and her fair hair swayed across her breasts and shoulders, strands of it sticking to her black top. “You’re not a barbarian… but these men… let’s just fly out of here… now… please, Loke?”

Gods, he wanted to do that. He wanted to fulfil that request because he knew that she was scared—for him and for herself.

“I cannot.” He twisted his arms free of her grip and then took hold of her hands and looked at them.

They were small in his, dainty, but strong. He turned them both palm up and rubbed his thumbs across the calluses at the base of each finger. She had wielded weapons for many years, had clearly fought in many battles. His fearless little Amazon.

Yet she feared this place. She feared his people. She feared for him.

“You can.” She closed her fingers over his thumbs and held them.

He sighed and lifted his eyes to hers. “It will not change anything. It will not make you safe. If I do not fight for you, another male can claim you without a battle. The strongest will be chosen.”

“Which one is that? Not the green-haired bastard.” She glared across the square at Zephyr and Loke decided that he would take Zephyr’s head for upsetting his female so deeply.

He didn’t need to know what Zephyr had done to her. Just the fact that she feared him was reason enough for Loke.

He reined in that bloodthirsty desire and put it out of his head. He didn’t need to kill either of his opponents to win Anais. He only needed to incapacitate them. He wasn’t sure how Anais would react if he killed his fellow dragons in order to save her, but he had a suspicion the guilt she felt would only increase, and he didn’t want that to happen.

Loke pointed to Brink where he waited at the entrance of the path to the arena, staring at her through midnight eyes.

Anais paled.

Her blue gaze gradually inched back to Loke and she leaned closer to him. He wanted to open his arms and pull her into them, needed to give her the comfort she craved, but setting his hands on her in that way would only incite Brink and Zephyr. He had been given leave to speak with her. He didn’t dare do anything else, not when Ren was watching him so closely too.

“Does anyone die in these contests?” she murmured, her gaze flitting between him and Brink.

She didn’t look at Loke for longer than a second, but he could see that she had changed her mind and wanted him to fight and win now that she had seen what male would take possession of her if he defaulted.

Loke risked it and stroked her cheek, running his fingers over it and absorbing how soft and warm her skin was beneath his. She slowly looked back at him and her gaze stayed with him this time, never leaving his, piercing him right down to his soul just as it had that day they had met.

He fell into her eyes and the world around him faded, his awareness narrowing to only her.

“Many fail.” He lied.

He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth either. He didn’t want her to know that most dragons who entered into a contest didn’t walk away from it. He was certain she felt nothing for him, other than viewing him as a safer dragon to be around than the others, but he felt compelled to soften the blow.

He didn’t want her to feel guilty. He didn’t want her to fear for him either. Both of those emotions filled her eyes though, tearing at him, and he wasn’t sure what to do to make them go away.

Besides winning a contest.

He searched for something to say to reassure her, but words failed him and shock rippled through him, a startling wave of heat and tingles, when she instead did something that reassured him and made him want to roar.

She moved onto her knees, wedging her hips between his spread thighs, cupped his cheeks and pressed her lips to his.

Fire coursed through him, strength that obliterated his fears and his doubts as her lips gently swept over his in a tender kiss.

Before he could pull together his scattered senses and wrap his arms around her to hold her in place while he kissed her back, she withdrew.

She dropped her gaze to her knees, her cheeks darkening as she whispered, “Good luck.”

He didn’t need luck. Not anymore. Anais had filled him with the strength he needed to face Zephyr and Brink and emerge the victor. A single kiss had made him feel more powerful than he had ever done. He felt as if he could take on the entire village and win.

Gods, he could take on the world.

Nothing would stand between him and his little Amazon.

L
oke trod the path to the arena in silent contemplation, running over every possible scenario that might happen during the battle ahead of him. Zephyr led the group. Brink brought up the rear. The walled corridor cut into the black earth allowed the spectators to follow their progress from above as they too headed towards the arena.

Rayna’s gaze constantly sought him, but he kept his fixed ahead, unwilling to allow her to distract him. She could stare all she wanted. He wasn’t interested in anything she had to offer him. He was only interested in surviving the fight for Anais, claiming his little Amazon, and leaving with her.

Later, he would return to deal with Rayna. She would pay dearly for what she had done. He curled his fingers into fists at his sides and set his jaw, grinding his teeth as he thought about how the female dragon had snatched Anais, bringing her to the village. She had done it with the intent of eliminating Anais, whether that was through death or through Ren handing her over to another male.

He spared Rayna a glance and caught the flicker of fear in her golden eyes. He growled at her, baring twin rows of sharp teeth, making his anger clear to her. She could fear for him all she wanted. She had placed him in this position. She would pay for that too.

Brink muttered beneath his breath behind Loke, reciting an ancient warrior’s prayer. Loke chanted it in his head, using it to give him focus and clarity, to hone his senses and prepare himself for battle. Ahead of him, Zephyr began whispering the same prayer as he entered the arena.

A great cheer went up around the oval coliseum.

Loke entered behind him, his bare feet crushing the black sand as he took swift steps towards the centre of the obsidian stone coliseum where they were to gather before Ren in his private box.

The arena was enormous, a fragment of a time long past, when dragons had been numerous and games had taken place on special days through the cycle of the planet around the sun. In those days, thousands had gathered from far and wide to watch the spectacle of the finest dragon warriors battling the great beasts of Hell. Now, the clan used the arena for contests and training purposes, and their numbers barely filled a single row on one side of the arena. That side was carved from the black mountain that towered above the village, spearing the dark sky.

His gaze tracked up the height of it and fixed on the bleak sky of Hell.

How blue was the sky in Anais’s world?

He imagined it to be as blue as her eyes.

How warm would the sun feel on his skin?

He imagined it to be as warm as hers had felt beneath his fingers.

Silence fell as Ren entered and Loke dragged his eyes away from the sky and his thoughts away from the mortal realm, and lowered them to the covered private box in the centre of the side of the coliseum he faced.

His mood blackened and his lips compressed into a thin line as he watched Anais enter, stumbling as Rayna held the chain attached to her manacles and dragged her along behind her. They had removed her ankle shackles when he had requested it, but had refused to take off the ones around her wrists.

Ren smiled coldly and motioned for Anais to take the smaller throne next to his one, much to Rayna’s obvious displeasure.

Anais didn’t move to take it. She fixed Ren with a dark scowl, her blue eyes filled with hatred that tainted her soft sweet scent. Ren turned on her, a male far taller and more powerful than she was, but she didn’t flinch away. She stood her ground and even tipped her chin up.

Defiant.

Loke had seen that look before. He had found it charming then, but he found it concerning now. She was playing with fire. Ren wasn’t known for his kindness or patience. When he issued an order, he expected it followed without question or hesitation.

Ren moved a step closer to her, coming to tower over her, and his golden eyes narrowed, filling with fire that warned Loke he was close to losing his temper and forcing Anais to submit to him.

She flicked a nervous glance in Loke’s direction and he gave her a pointed look and then glared at the smaller throne, silently willing her to take it. There was a time and a place for defiance, and this wasn’t it. He was participating in this contest in order to spare her and stop his kin from hurting her. He didn’t need her actively attempting to get herself hurt, or worse.

Anais finally lowered her head and slumped onto the throne, her lips moving as she muttered something. Whatever she said, it drew a black look from Rayna, one that held an equal measure of hatred as the look Anais had given Ren. Rayna’s golden eyes slid Loke’s way and he bared his fangs in a silent warning to her. She huffed and took the seat on the other side of Ren.

Ren stepped forwards to stand at the low wall that formed the front of the private box and raised his hand. “You all know the rules. No shifting. You may use whatever weapons you have at your disposal or those in the arena. Fight until the last dragon stands.”

He dropped his hand.

Brink turned on a pinhead and swept his silver blade upwards in a blurred arc.

Not at Loke.

Zephyr leaped backwards, barely evading the blow, and snarled as he retaliated, lunging forwards and lashing out with his curved blade.

The sword sliced clean across Brink’s bare chest and the black-haired male staggered backwards, growled and then roared at Zephyr as he banded one arm across his chest and struck with the blade he gripped in the other.

Loke shifted backwards, moving out of the path of the blow, and quickly scanned the arena for a weapon. Brink lived in the village and Zephyr had a hut there, giving them access to their favoured weapons. All Loke had was his knife.

His gaze zoomed around the arena and a cold weight pressed down on his chest as he found no weapon.

He cursed Ren’s name when he caught sight of the male grinning down at him. He must have ordered all the weapons cleared from the arena while Loke had been occupied with speaking with Anais.

His heart accelerated, flooding his veins with adrenaline as he searched for a way out of this unholy mess he had found himself in. He was skilled with it, but his knife was no match for the blades that Zephyr and Brink wielded.

His gaze narrowed and he smiled slowly.

There were two blades in the arena.

He just needed to get his hands on one.

Brink dodged a blow aimed at his throat, sweeping beneath the blade and strafing right, gaining space as Zephyr growled and flashed his fangs. Blood drenched the front of Brink’s torso, pumping from the deep gash across his bare chest.

Loke wasn’t sure why Brink had decided to attack Zephyr and leave him alone, but he was grateful to the male for the much-needed thinking time. Zephyr pressed forwards with his attacks, clearly bent on removing Brink from the equation and leaving the battle for Anais between him and Loke.

Loke could go along with that.

He pulled his knife from the sheath against his left hip and targeted Brink.

The black-haired male swept around to face him, his expression twisting into grim lines as he saw Loke running at him. Brink said something but Loke couldn’t hear the words as he roared and kicked off, launching high into the air. He gripped his knife with both hands above his head and kept his eyes locked on Brink’s black ones.

Brink glared and swept his curved blade upwards, on a direct path with Loke’s descent.

Zephyr took the bait.

He ran at Brink’s back, his blade tucked against his side, ready to thrust. The moment he was within striking distance, he launched the blade forwards, plunging it deep into Brink’s right side. Brink staggered forwards with the blow, leaving Zephyr in the path of Loke’s strike.

Zephyr’s head began to lift and he tried to evade, but he wasn’t quick enough.