The Druid Series 9: Baird (A Druid Novel) (7 page)

Baird's dick tingles with the need to do that and so much more with a certain Druid.

He walks out of the room with a set of blue balls. Anger and unfinished business follow him to his chamber.

Seraphina

Seraphina has never been fucked so deeply or completely in her time as breeder. 

She is not a needy thing as some of the others, but with one rut from Altho, she is changing by the second.

He batters her with his cock, driving deeply inside the phallus. She groans, succumbing to the sensation of being filled to capacity and the simultaneous stimulation from the stub in her ass.

Technically, it is not he that impales her but the phallus.

Her eyes whip open when she realizes how closely he skates the invasion of her sex magick.

Altho smiles, face puckering where his scar tweaks his lips, a whip of red flesh against his full mouth.

He sees her looking and distracts her with a swivel of his hips. Her breath catches in her throat.

“Do not look upon me,” he says.

Seraphina closes her eyes and does the same with her legs. He forces them apart.

She wants him to, yet she does not
.

His breath is warm on her face. “That is it—fight, my little breeder.”

She slams her hips against his, grabs the back of the dark hair, and rips his head backward.

He howls as he finishes, the pain she gifts him taking Altho over that edge of ecstasy. Her own release pulses around him, causing the phallus and his softening cock to move in and out.

He yells in a hoarse cry of agony and tortured surprise.

He rolls off her, taking her with him.

Altho pulls out, the phallus buried inside her like a plug.

Meeting her eyes, he flops the phallus on the bed beside them.

“
I have fucked you soundly, Druid—and yet am immune to the magick of your delectable twat.”

Seraphina ignores his barbs. “Why is your face like that?”

He cannot contain his expression.

Instead, his sorrow is something she did not expect or want. She feels sick to have caused it.

Altho is many things. Primarily, he is her benefactor and captor.

He sets her away from him and moves to leave.

Seraphina grabs his waist as he does, pressing the side of her face against his naked back.

He is a strong male, a Druid witch like herself. He has the blood of the vampire running in his veins. As does she.

Their magicks are complementary.

He could toss her away. Or, he could mate her.

He does neither. Altho sits at the edge of the bed and lets her press against his back.

The silence stretches.

Why does he want her? To use her? He could fuck any female. None could resist.

“
I pay for females to lay with me,” he admits softly.

Seraphina says nothing. She remembers how acute her shock was upon first seeing Altho.

However, he was made to fuck the Druid female. He is not like the other priests. He is a perfectly balanced Druid male, all the old magick combined with the ancient blood of the Reaper.

Not her brother but a lover.

“My face causes fear.”

“
Not for me,” Seraphina answers truthfully.

“
Liar.”

She crawls into his lap. His face stares at a point above her shoulder.

“I do not
need
to lie,” she says. “You know what I am, what I can do. I am a Druid Breeder and would be with the Reapers if it were not for you. Or—the Faction.” Seraphina controls a shudder as she thinks about the wandering nomadic vampire group.

Altho's face changes at her words, becoming feral, and she flinches back.

He could hurt her because he has not partaken of the fruit of her body. He has kept the necessary distance to avoid becoming her slave.

Gripping her naked shoulders, he shakes her. “The Faction will not have you.”

Seraphina shakes her head. “No, I am with you. Had I not been—they could have.”

His tense face eases, puzzling Seraphina. Altho wants a breeder in his domicile, so that he may fuck on demand. If that is his need, why the concern over the Faction? She supposes if her body were broken, he could not use it to his satisfaction. It is all very pathetic once it is laid out in her mind.

Seraphina slips off Altho's lap, and her skirt falls into place. Her blouse is in tatters from twisting and tearing as Altho rode her hard.

She kicks his legs apart with her knees as she lets him take in her breasts.

Grabbing his face, she forces him to look at her.

Fear, wonder, and anger are rolled up like bitter herbs in his handsome face, though the scar hides some of it.

She pulls him forward slowly. When he does not object, she touches his upper lip with her mouth. She presses her lips to his scar so lightly, it is barely more than hovering heat before it is gone.

Altho's forehead rests against hers for a moment.

Then he shoves her away, and she stumbles back.

“
Go,” he whispers harshly.

Seraphina turns.

Her plan is working. She will have her freedom, by any means.

*

Altho

Altho's eyes follow the small Druid. She puts a hand to her lips, looking hurt, and he keeps his face neutral against her emotions.

He loathes what he is feeling: tenderness.

He has long-buried that part of his emotions for self-preservation's sake.

His eyes rake over her lovely body. A hand-span waist cinches below a blouse he ruined with his attentions.

How hard it had been not to fuck her bareback. His dick got hard with just the slip of the thought.

Altho had prevailed.

This time.

Her sensitivity had undone him at the end. Instead of fighting him and her natural instinct to breed, she had endeavored in her soft attack.

Kissing the abuse on his face. A face he hated. One that had been dished out to him on a silver platter of revenge by the Faction.

The only way for him to have a companion is to keep her here against her will. Prostitutes are all who are willing to lay with a male whose face is as disfigured as Altho's.

Yet, Seraphina had taken all he could give.

Altho longs to take her as a male ought.

He stands and walks to his cleaning chamber. It will be a long time before he forgets how soft her lips were against the roughness of his past.

Altho will forget what has happened, but not her.

When Seraphina mentioned the Faction, his blood ran cold. If they were to get a Druid female, it would end badly for her.

He did not want any female subjected to what he had been put through.

Altho swallows, the lump of anxiety sticking in his throat like a burr.

As is his habit, Altho delays his bathing as he moves through his fortress, visually securing each portal. Thankfully, his eyes remain perfect. He sees every entrance and exit, high stone wall, iron bar, and other barriers are secure.

Uncompromising.

He lets his senses settle and reach out, feeling for the breeder's magick.

There.
He senses her energy like warm candy. He rolls the beauty of its unique taste around on his tongue, loving her perfection in his home.

He loves to possess a rare Druid breeder to fuck at will. A warm body to lend companionship.

But Altho is displeased to feel other things.

Passion and care—protection.

Though he gave a blood bond to keep her safe, it was merely show. He is Druid, but unlike the priests who met a handy end just a day ago, he is of different genetics. His brand of Druid male is rare, bred to protect and breed with the Druid female.

Even now, he feels the pull of that unique calling. He will shy from it. He does not want to care about anyone or anything.

If anyone attempts to take Seraphina from him, they will wish they were dead.

Siana

Siana sees Baird immediately.

Their eyes lock, and she knows what he will do before he crouches in tense readiness.

Baird sprints from the broken door of the temple and sails over the moat gracefully.

His dismissive glance moves over her body while he is midair.

Baird lands and does not look back.

She swallows her sadness and presses forward.

*

She and Kael are quiet as they fly, hand in hand, across the murky and treacherous water encircling the failed Druid priest temple.

The Druids who were held in the cells are now gone.

The doors have been ripped from their hinges, an impossible feat for humans. It speaks of supernatural invasion.

Faction.

Rogue
and Reaper alike would not think to do that. They were not feared by the Druid. Only the priests and Faction hope to gain control of the Druid females: the Faction to force breed, and the priests to rape, plunder, and rob the magick of the more powerful female Druids.

The priests in this region are no more.

The Faction are the likely culprits.

“
What do you propose?” Siana asks.

Kael makes a face. He is as unhappy with the inevitable as she.

She needs to move to the Reaper's fortress. Hopefully, there could be an alliance to gain back what they had lost. If it is not too late.

*

Siana is tiring. They do not have horses, and they have been traveling non-stop to get to Magnus's stronghold.

Blood is scarce, keeping to the back roads as they have been.

“We need to feed,” Kael announces.

Siana slows from a dead run, her hands coming to rest on her knees as she leans over, gasping.

“It is not good that you push in your condition.”

Siana shoots him an amused look and smirks. The confusion on his face is nothing short of adorable.

“You, good sir, are wonderful,” she says.

Kael smiles. “I know you be early in the way, but you carry a precious life. An Exotic life.”

Sadness sweeps through her, hollowing Siana out like a corn husk.

Kael wraps his strong arms around her. “I jest. It is my way. It does not mean I cannot be serious.”

He pulls away, finding too many tears to easily wipe. He seeks her eyes until she gives them. “Take heart, Siana. I have looked these many years for a female I could breed with. And not any. I am a mongrel
rogue
by most standards. It is only by the grace of the goddess I am not with the Faction.”

Siana shakes her head and searches his features, finding what marks him as Exotic.

Finding it fine.

“
However”—he cups her face—“if my mongrel genetics sought yours and we have made a life to perpetuate the rareness of the Exotic, it is a destiny beyond denying.”

He kisses her forehead, each eyelid, and when his mouth hovers over hers, she takes it, hard.

Kael responds.

Tired, hunger and dirty from travel, Siana feels his stiffness between them.

“Take me here, Kael—now,” Siana begs.

He does not need a second invitation.

Kael rips open her breeches, scoops an arm underneath her naked ass, and lifts her. He walks short paces to a tree trunk and presses her against the rough surface.

Their eyes meet, his like ice and hers captured fire.

His pants are at his ankles, and he spears her before they finish dropping. Siana moans as he moves deeply inside her. She folds her arms around his neck, one ankle caught in her breeches and swinging as he rocks inside her.

“
Hang onto me.”

Siana tightens her grip, wrapping her strong legs around his waist.

Kael presses his palms against the furled bark above her head and beats his cock inside her, stabbing, swinging, and plunging. Siana hangs from him as he loves her with every bit of himself.

“
Siana,” he growls against her neck, so tightly pressed against her body, nothing is separate about them.

They are one body, hot and slick and whole. Siana moves with each plunge, taking him deeply.

She groans, her head falling to the side as hot jets of his seed warm inside her.

Kael slides his hand between her and the tree trunk, pressing the small of her back against the front of him.