I rolled to a sitting position and faced them. Isobel’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she approached me with a twist to her full lips. “Thought we’d give your recharge a personal touch today.” She stopped a few feet from the cot, and Brock came up behind her, pressed his hips into her while his hands grabbed at her breasts. He tugged on her loose blouse, exposing her nipples to his touch, and growled as she arched her back, pushing her buttocks into him.
The entire display sickened me, but my inner Satyr didn’t care about my sensibilities. I closed my eyes as my blood surged. I fought it, but it was a fight I was destined to lose.
It created a schism destined to rend my soul in two, and Isobel knew it. She saw it in my eyes. Her hand reached back to cup Brock’s substantial balls, and her lips curled into a sneer. She gestured to Laila.
Laila. If only I could bring myself to hurt her—but she was an innocent, doing her mentor’s bidding. Now, the blonde coven member hurried to kneel before me and unfasten the laces on my breeches.
What lay within had appreciated Isobel’s display, and leaped free when she stroked me.
No.I was losing myself to this evil.
If I reached out with my manacled hands, Isobel would be onto me in a flash. So, I focused on the physical connection already in place instead.
Her hot mouth closed around my shaft, and I extended the power within me—the lethal blend of Liberi and Satyr—chasing along her veins. I didn’t want to hurt her, but maybe I could shut her down.
So I left her heart alone, instead tracing the arteries from it to her throat, and I pinched them off.
The tongue hesitated in its laving. Then she choked on me, coughing. When she pulled back, I made one last, desperate push, and she slumped to the floor.
“What have you done?” Isobel pulled free from Brock, who snarled as his swollen member was suddenly left high and dry. She rushed to Laila, and lifted her.
The woman was already coming around, her eyelids flickering. But Isobel set her back down and rose to face me with flashing eyes.
I got to my feet. “I will do it again,” I promised. “Every time she touches me.”
Isobel’s breath hissed from between her teeth, and she grabbed me by the throat. I closed my hands around her arm, and what was inside me crashed headlong into the bloodmagic within her.
I pushed to reach her heart, or her brain—anywhere I could do damage. It was a desperate attempt, and I knew it. Bolstered as she was, I stood little chance of prevailing.
With those resources—she could grab control over my talent, and finish me herself.
I was too valuable to kill, but this wasn’t about that kind of death.
Brock moved to stand only two feet from me, his metallic bronze gaze blazing. He put his big hand on Isobel’s arm.
“Get him, Icefire,” he growled.
The pulse of energy that was their mate bond was the final straw. She smashed through my attempt to hold the line, and sent the bloodmagic coursing through me.
My mouth opened in a soundless scream of agony. I was peripherally aware of Brock seizing hold of her hips, and plunging into her from behind. His thrusts transferred through her to her hands on my face, and through the pain she was inflicting, I experienced their lust.
It climbed and climbed as she sent pulse after pulse into me, scorching me even as my Satyr responded. I was helpless to stop myself from pushing into the hand she dropped, and her lips curved into a cruel smile as she stroked.
Brock was grunting now, his thrusts becoming more rapid and deeper. With her face only inches from my own, I witnessed her pupils expand—and then they, too, began to pulse.
The bronze Dragon roared as she contracted around him, and he exploded. To my shame, the surge of raw, primal emotion brought me with them.
Isobel didn’t care that I soaked the front of her gown. I burned with humiliation as her crimson-hued gaze glittered in triumph.
To further add to my shame, she laughed.
6
Riley
Havoc was an enormous guy, even as a human.
The big Dragon shifter’s lower legs and shoulders hung off the cot, despite the fact that it was designed for larger species. It had taken five Dire shifters to carry him here, and they had panted and sprouted fur as they’d done so.
