Shocked into action, Sin staggered forward. “Sic—”
“Shade,” Renegade said, correcting him. “My Shadow, who guards my back with a thunder of dragons.”
“This boy?” Giaus barked. Derisive, but not entirely cruel so much as he was shocked.
But to this, Sin could only laugh. Stepping forward with all the caution deserving of the lava-kin and the Omega who’d tamed them. Respect earned by a smaller species that had been bred to endure. “He’s older than you,” Sin drawled, and when Shade’s ears pricked forward, the general clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad you’re not dead, brother.”
Shade offered a cautious smile, showing teeth when he batted Sin’d hand away, and said, “Quit your mothering. I’m fine. ”
Purring a seductive song, Renegade yawned. Stretched. Her ears drooping, she allowed the king to scoop her up and press her close. “Let’s be going, shall we? I hear there are monsters lurking in these woods…”
23
Shifting to ease the ache bunched between her shoulders, Renegade sighed. Stretching muscles strained by the indulgence of every lewd act she could imagine—and then some.
She stood. Untangling herself from the males of her court. Sin, who watched her with hooded gaze, fist tracing the length of his rigid prick still coated in a creamy sheen.
And Shade, whose cheeks were warm and pink beneath the tattoos. Eyes glassy with all the sordid, delicious things she’d done to him, and the onset of the killing fever that brought with it great, fundamental change.
Both of them sprawled in her nest. Contented. Fucked placid. Illuminated in the soft green light of an evenwood tree, whose light was kind to nocturnal eyes.
At the show of her slightest interest, Giaus had uprooted it. Careful not to kill it, he’d dragged it all the way back to her den. The feat effortless for the king, but the reward for doing so?
It made their bond hum with bliss. A simple, thoughtful gift meant to feed her spirit.
She met the mutant king at the mouth of their den. One dainty hand finding the small of his back, above twitching tail she no longer had cause to be jealous of.
Because her own was growing back. Made whole by her males, who’d each given her a treasure.
“War is coming,” she said. Serene as she watched the night swallow the last of the sun’s heat.
Giaus hummed, bathing her in the adoration of that ravenous amber gaze. “Yes.”
Below them, Sultana snapped at one of her thralls. Crimson frill flaring as she coiled and hissed.
Uttering a deep gravely chuckle, Giaus wrapped her in a fur cloak, tucking her snug beneath the weight of arms meant for murder and protection in equal measure. Filling her with all he couldn’t say. And then, “Dragons may just tip the scales, but… We aren’t ready.”
“No,” she said, and sighed. Luxuriating, for a moment, in the heat of his embrace. Indulging in the male who’d given her the courage to rise and claim the dark.
As if summoned, the others joined them. Royalty and slave alike, both of them naked. All of them hers.
Deadly and strong.
Wicked and smart.
Sweet and cutting.
They were all of them a match to her rebellious fire. Obvious. Natural. Made for her, and given by the Nine.
“I don’t know how long we have,” she murmured, and her words held weight she was unaccustomed to wielding. “If it’s months… oryears.I don’t know if we can prepare before the Legion strikes, or if we’ll be swallowed whole. But war is coming to test this feral court.” She smiled as she looked upon the Queen’s Landing. A place that had seen bloodshed and lust. A place where dragons roosted and queens were made. “Together, we might just stand a chance.”
Her hand dropped to the swell between her hips. The cradle where life had rooted. Welcome. Exciting for the promise of something profound. A thing not done before.
Giaus’ palm covered hers. The king purring with deep, satisfied contentment that masked barely contained madness. Seething, primordial rage that he would gladly unleash on a whim with a song of joy and destruction in his heart. To defend what he had claimed as only he might.
“In a few short weeks,” she said, and felt a tiny kick against her palm. First one, then several more. “We will know if I carry a legacy or an ending. If some distant, future civilization will tell the story of the Renegade Queen and her Feral Court.” She shrugged, ears flicked back as her grin grew feral. Devious. “Or we’ll all be dead, and then, what does it really matter?”
“Poetic,” Sin drawled, and rolled his eyes.
