As he surges to me, Bjorn blocks Mikkel off. Bjorn corrals me in his strong, brawny arms as he growls a warning to keep Mikkel back.
A vast heat of competition fills the space as both Bjorn’s and Mikkel’s energies roar now, Bjorn touching me while Mikkel moves around to my other side. Even though we’ve all agreed to do this, I feel a hot spike of power fill the vaulted room as they contest over me; I struggle to breathe in all that scalding drake-energy, violent.
Each of my drakes is a dominant, and it shows, as Mikkel and Bjorn both put hands on me at the same time. Ström is just a split-second behind; he’s far too late, though, as the first two drakes fight with each other now.
Over me.
As Mikkel yanks me to him, I’m pulled right out of Bjorn’s arms. Mikkel snarls into my hair, low and possessive, as his tall, lean body wraps around me from behind.
His inner drake crashes through me as he claims me; Bjorn gives a true snarl in response, furious that Mikkel ripped me away. As Bjorn slams his mighty, rageful power through me into Mikkel, Ström growls from nearby, trying to unmake their enmity by pulling me into his arms instead.
Ström forces Mikkel to give me up with a targeted slap of his dark crimson-green power, crashing through our bond. I’m suddenly a rag doll between them, however, as I’m yanked back into Bjorn’s arms as he growls at Ström, then back into Mikkel’s as Mikkel floods Bjorn with a seething dark Bone Magic surprise through our bond.
It gets personal then, as Bjorn roars and hammers Mikkel with his manifest physical energy, rather than just blasting power through our Bloodbond.
As Bjorn slams out a palm, he pummels a hard blast of Bloodwind into Mikkel’s side like a punch. Still not one hundred percent healed fromeverything he went through in Copenhagen, though it’s far better after our recent sex, Mikkel grunts in pain as he’s forced to give me up, doubling over and clutching his side.
But Mikkel’s black eyes fix upon Bjorn then, hard. As a roaring chartreuse green fire fills them, energy snarls throughout Mikkel’s veins, making the livid chartreuse green lines of his dragon stand out on his skin.
With a cold lack of compassion, I feel Mikkel concentrate his energy on what he does best. As he slams a vicious spear of chartreuse-green fire right out from his mind, thrusting it deep into Bjorn’s, I know we’re fucked.
Paralyzed by Mikkel’s mind-drive, Bjorn crashes to the floor—me on top of him, because he got paralyzed with his fingers caught in my robe. As I sprawl on top of Bjorn, who’s been incapacitated with a look of shocked fury frozen on his face by Mikkel’s mean strike, I’ve suddenly had it.
As Mikkel’s fast hands seize me to claim me again, I take command. “Stop! Fucking… stop it!!” I roar, as a nasty pulse from my blackest Bone Magic hammers out of me.
Hard.
As my darkest magic roars inside me now, seeking to punish my drakes for fighting over me, I scurry up fast from the floor, out of their knot. My most terrible magic careens inside my veins as I’m devoured by my Wraith; my mind is swallowed by blackness, as everything inside me roars, livid at their contentiousness.
It makes me open my mouth, roaring in truth now and shaking the vaults with deafening basso notes as I shriek with harpy’s overtones in my voice. A terrible black Bloodwind whirls all around me; my fingers have become talons, and I didn’t even feel them shift, as spines shoot up from my shoulders, shredding my robe.
That gargantuan wrath devours me—completely now. As I seethe in my terrible black retribution, I feel the power of Baldur’s curses pulling on me, as they eat at his beautiful flesh.
I’mone second from shifting up into my blackest dragon, as I feel that horrible darkness fill my bones, devouring my veins and nearly snuffing my brighter drakaina out.
But then someone’s arms curl around me. Smooth lips brush my ear; a voice as sweet as midnight and as soulful as the stars enters my wrathful mind as Ström sings a low, intoxicating melody to soothe me.
That song flows all around me, and deep into my body, as our touch enhances it. As Ström’s arms curl around me and he sings in that incredible, gods-given voice of his, I feel him pour his own dark drake into me, to calm my wrath.
It works, barely. Full of dark passion rather than meanness like me, Ström holds me now, as he pours his dark eros and serenity into me. From seething and ruinous, I’m melting back into Rikyava. As I heave hard breaths, I’m able to find my inner light; as Ström’s beautifully intense dragon coils all around me now through our Bloodbond, it’s like fitting a key inside a lock.
Something clicks, and my darkest nature releases, smoothing back down as I’m finally able to get my shit together from where I went, just now. As my darkest Bone Magic recedes like a leviathan lake, placid once more, my brighter Blood Magic drakaina finally rises inside me.
Through it all, Ström holds me, singing and swaying us with his body wrapped around mine, until my eros wins over my wrath. At last, I melt; I place my cheek against his, beyond grateful for him as I heave hard breaths, recovering.
I know he understands, as he squeezes me around the waist, then kisses me on the cheek and ceases singing. My drakes have ceased fighting, as well; Mikkel’s released Bjorn from his mind-paralyzing power as we all listened to the undying sweetness of Ström’s song, feeling it all through our bones and back.
Mikkel heaves hard breaths, standing nearby as Bjorn sits up on the floor with his arms around his knees, both recovering from their suddencontentiousness. They stare at me and Ström, not interrupting, because all of them know how much I need this.
Because Ström is a safe space for me in all these big-dick egos. I feel it deeply now, as he holds me and we just sway together for another moment.
Before he heaves a deep breath and speaks.
“Right. That isn’t going to work,” Ström says as I feel him pin my other drakes with his intense green eyes, disdaining. “Fighting over Rikyava in the bedroom is only going to piss off her Bone Magic and make it go wrathful, like we all just felt. As has happened before, because of you two asshats. Great job, guys.”
“Forgive me, Rikyava,” Bjorn says, as his golden gaze pins me from where he’s still sitting on the floor. Honest and shaken, he blinks in confusion now as he looks up at me. “I had every intention of making this work, because I know how much we need to. But… as we all stepped into this, I could feel Baldur’s curses like black water filling my bones. I felt them pushing my darkest rage deep inside. As if Bone Magic eased out of my very own bones now, dark, thanks to what the Black Dragon’s done to us through Baldur… it swept me. Furious—and fast.”
“I wanted to make this work, as well; I had every intention of doing so. As he touched you, though, and kept me from you… it was as if all that darkness infected me in our moment of rage and wrath, to fight harder.” Mikkel frowns at Bjorn now, before he looks at me, still safe in Ström’s arms. “How in seven hells are we supposed to have group sex, if all our dominant energy only makes Rikyava’s inner Bone Magic nasty, and our own darkest places resonate with Baldur’s curses, pushing us to fight more, thanks to the Black Dragon?”
