Chyronex (Draconess Book 1) Read online

  I take off the rest of his heavy black hood and lay it on the neatly made bed. The whole room was clean from maid’s work.

  “You’ve been sleeping in my bed,” I say as I turn back to him. He is taking off his tunic, already in an unnecessary rush as he pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. I take it from him and place it on the bed too. When I turn back to him, he grabs his breeches and turns to me, one canine biting his lower lip.

  “Will you help with the knot?” Zarcar asks, lowly, “The ties were done with small nimble fingers from a maid, yours will do to untie them.”

  I am confused momentarily until he explains this.

  I hesitantly step forward, then step forward again. I stand in front of his giant form and glare at the loosely tied knot; liar! I grab one loop and pull it out with a single gesture.

  “You idiot,” I look up at him, to see him sending me a fairly smouldering look, “…what?” I ask.

  “You really know nothing,” Zarcar states, “How many summers are you?”

  “I forget, 19 I believe,” I shrug, “I am not accustomed to men’s ways. You are very… odd.”

  “What do you know?” Zarcar repeats as I prepare to take a step back, but he reaches out a hand to grab mine… pulling it down to the top of his breeches, “Help me, Chyronex. While we talk,” he is so coy. I don’t like it.

  I blush slightly as I feel the heat from his torso and abdominals on my knuckles, but I can’t bring myself to pull his pants down.

  “…what do you really want from me?” I whisper, while looking down at our feet.

  I was confused.

  I wasn’t sure what this interaction was about, but I felt funny inside.

  “I will tell you when you are ready,” Zarcar murmurs, “You are not ready yet.”

  “You confuse me,” I keep my eyes downcast.

  “I know,” damn my usurper and his short and equally vague responses!

  I grip the material in my hand and start to pull it down, while Zarcar kicks off his boots. I look away, not sure why, as I pull the breeches further towards his knees – and then I stand back and turn from him.

  “…you’re shy,” he mumbles, while I cross my arms over my chest, facing the opposite wall.

  “I am simply awaiting your secrets,” I state, while he now stands behind me.

  I don’t expect Zarcar to reach out and grab a curl from my head, tugging on it gently to feel it’s softness and length as he runs it through his fingers.

  “I don’t think I should ever tell you my intent,” Zarcar murmurs it so quietly, I almost don’t catch it, “Go to the wardrobe and search for an outfit for me.”

  “No.”

  “What?” Zarcar asks, somewhat shocked by my sudden disobedience.

  “I want to know why you chose to keep me alive,” I keep my back to him, “I will complete the task after you tell me.”

  Zarcar hesitates, then chooses to close the tiny distance, his front slowly presses against my back, while his hand comes around my front, over my silky dress, he slowly raises his hand. His fingers brush my collar bone before he slips his fingers around my small neck. I hold my breath and I don’t jerk away. I wanted an answer.

  Zarcar leans down until his hair mixes with my own brown curls, while his cheek presses to mine.

  The strangely intimate gesture, slowly calculated, has my breaths getting stuck as my throat closes off in anticipation… of something.

  “…I’ll tell you,” Zarcar murmurs, “…when I’m ready, sweety,” he releases my throat and he points to the wardrobe.

  I slip out of his heat, a strange butterfly like feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I can’t think of a witty reply. So, I walk to the wardrobe while my mind is halted from thinking right.

  Although Zarcar refused to tell me his secrets… I was presently overwhelmed by my reaction from within.

  I felt… like my insides were smouldering like hot coals, like my blood was on fire and pumping fast through my veins.

  I didn’t understand what Zarcar was doing to me… but I felt a loss of control… and it terrified me, even more so than his pet demon Dragons.

  Chapter 8

  What a day! I had gathered my mind and picked out an outfit for Zarcar, a golden trimmed deeply violet suit. Too many male clothes really had been relocated into my bedchamber. I hadn’t realised until now that my usurper had been changing the room into a permanent setting for him to stay. I had assumed the maids were cleaning my room because it was a mess – not because they were completely overhauling it. But of course, Zarcar didn’t choose any other empty rooms on lower levels. He chose my room; my chamber.

  I guess it was equivalent to a dog pissing on a tree to mark their territory.

  Zarcar marked my room as his, just as I was now his slave – at least in his eyes.

  After choosing the suit and laying it on the bed, Zarcar gazed at it with a funny tilt to his head before nodding and then finally meeting my gaze.

  “Get out,” he had said, “When I am done reading a few things, I’ll put this suit on and you will join me for an afternoon dance and then a midnight celebration of peacefully acquiring the city without war.”

  When he had said that, I had to bite my tongue.

  Killing the priestesses had been murder but no one wanted to speak of it as such.

  “… Chyronex…?” Zarcar continued, speaking my name softly, “You better choose appropriate attire. You’ll be on my arm at all times.”

  “As a slave?” I had asked.

  “As an escort.”

  With those three words, my eyes had widened – I had stalked past his hugely inappropriate grin and I had left that moon forsaken room, 6 hours ago.

  His lasting farewell had been, “…I’ll see you at sun down… or in a dungeon, either way.”

  So for those 6 hours of waiting what did I do? I sat on the rooftop, sunbaking even though it was overcast. I had made a friend with a crow or two, spoken to them kindly and tried to ignore the fact I had to be on Zarcar’s arm tonight as some kind of arm candy… more like army candy.

  A war trophy.

  That’s what I was starting to feel like and as I told the crows my story, their chirps of agreement would suggest I was right.

  That’s what I was. Not just a slave or a companion in his – my – tower. But a prize.

  Another slave, like that strange, wild haired woman; Andoll. The moon guide from his land was either odd before he acquired her, or after he squished her will for freedom.

  All it told me was I must not let my back down lest I become another Andoll.

  I must keep strong while under his watchful eye.

  In private, tears or weakness was acceptable.

  In front of my captor; a dangerous move.

  So, not wanting to deal with being thrown onto the streets and then undoubtedly thrown into a dungeon for being rumoured to use magic – which would happen within hours of my dismissal from the tower – I decide to attend the celebrations with the now infamous war lord.

  Everyone wouldn’t stop speaking of his handsome conquest – so easy.

  So… strange.

  But I decide not to dress down… in fact, I decide to dress to impress. In the most provocatively appropriate way possible.

  Zarcar is not in the bed chamber when I go down to find formal attire as the sun finally sets.

  When I open the bottom draw of my chest, I find my clothes shoved in disrespectfully. I shuffle through and choose a few different things.

  A long and thick purple skirt, a purple ribbon to band around my breasts, completely covering them. I choose black long gloves to adorn my arms, a sign of taming eagles. Not that I was such, but I didn’t want to be seen as a whore at this celebration tonight.

  So, wearing gloves, my midriff and shoulders exposed and my hair in two tight braids – basically a I’m-a-proud-virgin hairdo – I head down to the bottom of the tower.

  I had a calling inside me that he was wait
ing for me, so I slip down the stairs to at a time, wearing ribbony sandals made from the finest black stained leather.

  I had also applied a priestesses mocking black lip paint, including four black dots around the corners of my eyes to symbolise magic spurting from my soul through my large, silver eyes.

  As I finally reach the bottom of the spiral stair case, I see Zarcar waiting by the doorway, his hair strangely groomed into perfect curls. He must have had a bath. He is freshly shaven. He is also waiting for me… impatiently.

  “Master,” I drawl, provocatively and sarcastically, mainly because I see the irritation in his gaze already at what I’m wearing, “Is there a problem?” I skip my way to his side and invade his personal space by bravely squaring off with him, almost flush against his torso as I raise a brow, my chin pointing up as high as possible.

  Zarcar’s cheek twitches but he leans off the wall to straighten his back, bumping into my front, he isn’t fazed as he looks down at me with hot and frustrated black glazed eyes.

  “If we were not already running late,” Zarcar speaks to me lowly, “I would not only change your outfit but teach you a lesson about straight, old fashioned discipline, for completely disrespecting my orders by wearing inappropriate attire… but, we shall keep it to leaving the gloves behind. Take them off – and undo your hair braids. Do you intend on hiding your position as escort tonight? You’re clever… but also a slow-witted moon priestess if you think I would not notice nor act in response to such an immature womanly reaction.”

  “I like these gloves,” I pout, pretending to speak casually, “Whatever is the matter with gloves, my handsome war lord?”

  “Handsome?” Zarcar pauses, narrowing his eyes at me, “So, you flatter to try and win battles, do you? You can do better than that, Chyronex.”

  “I could curse you with the Black Death but then many of your war friends and invaders would likely die with you and… oh, my, that’s not such a bad idea, is it?” I slowly smirk, “Perhaps you should watch your words around me, war lord. This priestess of the moon is gracing you with her presence. When I could have easily cursed you already or run you through with your own sword while you slept in my sheets, in my bedchamber, in my t-“

  “Silence yourself,” Zarcar lifts his hand and covers my mouth, grabbing my cheeks so I can’t pull back, I simply look at him as if he’s gone mad, “One more word from you tonight and I’ll start to punish you with binding that restricts your freedom… sweety. It’s a good way to tame feisty animals like yourself. In tune with nature… but oblivious, to the hand… literally… holding your life, in the palm of it… all I ask is obedience tonight. I want to see if you can surprise me,” Zarcar drawls heavily, “I am simply taking you in order to observe you tonight. I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with before I begin.”

  He lets my mouth go and grabs my elbow, pulling me into his side as he finally starts to leave the tower.

  “… begin what?” I ask, flustered and confused.

  “Do not speak again unless spoken to,” Zarcar has lost all patience as he pulls me firmly with him, “Stay close and don’t try to make a scene. If you do, it will simply give me a reason to show my people how I tame witches like you in public. So far… you are a typical woman of magic.”

  I bite my tongue.

  He was baiting me.

  I say nothing.

  He snorts and continues, “…good witch… look who’s learning?”

  Another reason to snap and scream at him.

  This time I look away altogether, wishing my ears could curl up and block out his cunning words.

  “…now…” he murmurs, “…if you stay quiet and good like that all night, Chyronex… I’ll reward you when we get home.”

  “Home?” I ask, blurting it out. I turn to him as he raises a brow at me.

  “My home,” Zarcar simply rubs it in, with a strong, iron gaze and a firm iron grip on my elbow, “…and your prison.”

  Chapter 9

  When we arrive, even the decked out ball for the afternoon dance, filled with the softest flowers, can’t distract me from Zarcar’s harsh words before we left. While he had been somewhat soft and flirty since overtaking my tower and murdering my friends – I had not expected this dark turn of discipline. I had the strange feeling he was hardening up on me.

  His tough wording to me was out of the blue and shocking.

  I could only expect that he intended to shock me on purpose, to scare me into being complacent.

  I wished I could say it didn’t work but in a city that was once home, now invaded and now changed forever – I couldn’t help but cower a little.

  So, even as he made sure I was on his arm for the dance, as he made light chat with other people of his culture – I stayed quiet.

  In fact, I only said a few words here and there.

  Before we entered this ball, Zarcar had sneakily slipped out the bands holding my braids together. He had taken off my gloves and pocketed them.

  I was now simply what he wanted me to be; an escort.

  However, my mind was worried by his change in temperament and what he meant by observing me…

  …it bothered me that his intentions for me was not made clear.

  If he would just say it… whether it be if he was aiming to, hmm… eradicate my magic… control what I learned… turn me into a pet witch like Andoll… use my power in war… I needed to know what the big secret was.

  I’m so deep in thought I have lost track of the light chatter he has been sharing with fellow members of his army. I’m not thinking about the present moment, as he has taken me to the edge of a ball… by a window. I only realise when my nose picks up the scent of night flowers and my nose crinkles in delight.

  I raise my head toward the smells and I bite my bottom lip as my hand stays on his forearm.

  I don’t realise he’s looking at me, until I turn slightly and feel the force of his gaze.

  I quickly snap my eyes back to the ball and flatten my smiling lips into a line of composure.

  “The fresh night air gave me the first hint of a reaction since I yelled at you,” Zarcar murmurs… almost… guilty, “Did I frighten you before we left, Chyronex?”

  I turn to him slow and haughtily, shaking out my hair that was meant to be bound.

  “No,” I’m pert as I respond, my eyes running over his handsome face, taking in his cruel unmoving lips and curious black eyes, seemingly drowning in our interaction. Drowning was the wrong word. More like hungry. Ravenous. Seeking something from me.

  “So, you are just shy of crowds then?” Zarcar pries for answers.

  “No,” I’m pert again.

  “An attempt to ignore me,” Zarcar finally settles with this, “To ignore your fate.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper before I can hold it in, the truth just fell from my lips.

  I attempt to turn away yet again. But, he doesn’t want me to move. He grabs my elbows unexpectedly and it shocks me enough as he spins me to face him.

  “You’re in my possession now,” Zarcar says firmly, “You needn’t worry of your fate. All you need to do is live in obedience to what I say. In my culture, men keep the women safe –”

  “You burned my friends and they were all women-”

  “They’re not coming back, Chyronex, you must accept it,” Zarcar tightens his hold, “But you are here… you breathe as I do. Find peace in that.”

  “I’d like to take a private bath when we return,” I do something I had learned from Kendra – when she was still alive. Change the subject smoothly enough and you can control any conversation with ease.

  “Are you starting to feel the dirt and grime building under your finger nails?” Zarcar’s mouth curls a little, “I would love to see you clean, Chyronex.”

  “You bathed,” I avoid his words carefully, “I enjoyed seeing you out of that black robe and hood, covering your face,” I’m simply being honest, “You are far more handsome this way.”

  “Handsome. There i
t is again,” Zarcar doesn’t seem to like me using that word, “What are you preparing to ask of me?”

  “…oh, nothing,” I use his words and his tone against him from when he withheld information from me in the bedchamber. I look down at his throat, and his heart beat pulsing through his veins, “I will tell you… when I’m ready, sweety,” I look up into his eyes, which now adjust to my wit and my barely contained smirk.

  “So, not only do you act like an abandoned animal with no home, you are also deceivingly sly, patient and biding your time… ” Zarcar murmurs.