The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1) (19 page)

G
rau held
up a jar of honey. “I know where to put it this time.”

“I don’t know if we should mess with that again.”

He raised a brow. “You
need
a little flavor, bellora. Maybe when I have time to develop spells I’ll see if I can find a way to make your skin taste delicious.”

He took an alarmingly large dollop of honey from the jar and smeared it right on the most sensitive part of her. He pushed her thighs farther apart and his tongue began to tease the center of her desire. At first he was so gentle—too gentle. She tried to be patient, not to beg…to enjoy the tiniest sensations tingling through her reborn body. Maybe this could cleanse away the memory of the cold terror of the river, if she let it all unfold slowly…

His teeth just barely clamped around her clit, slowly closing on her until she let out a little squeal of pain. She pressed her legs around him, and he shoved them apart again.

Now he began to suck the honey away, alternating with digging his tongue into the crevices.

“Oh…” The familiar feeling swept over her, of surrendering to him in the best sort of way, but now that she could feel the ghost of his emotions, now that he finally trusted her without the golden band, her own trust deepened. It was true, that she belonged to him and he belonged, just as much, to her.

She reached for him with her mind—very carefully testing the waters. Her telepathy was still untrained. She had only used it violently, to protect herself. Never subtly, until now. She would ruin everything if she hurt him.

She didn’t try to read him, but simply offered him her own emotions. Her own love, her own lust, the emotional and physical joy rolling through her.

He let out a shuddering sound. “Velsa…what is this?”

“What I’m feeling…”

“
Fates
, I didn’t know you could do that. This just got a lot better.”

“Not so bad having a…a telepath…” She trailed off into an incoherent little mewl as he returned to his task with renewed vigor. When she shared her sensations with his mind, he knew exactly what to do to render her speechless.

She closed off her mind just before she came, because she knew it would torment him and he’d tormented her often enough.

He looked at her with a wicked smirk. “I ought to spank you for that.”

“Go ahead and try. Your mere flesh hand can’t do much to me.”

He smacked her bottom a few times for good measure anyway; the brief, bright pain only seemed to reinforce the last faint pulses of her climax. 

She tossed him a mock glare over her shoulder before turning her attention to his arousal. He had already freed it from his trousers, and she put her mouth around him, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Now it was her turn to feel what he felt; she sensed his willingness to share with her too. She opened her mind, feeling a mirror of every lick and suck in her own hot core. It spurred her on to take him deeper and faster; he was already painfully excited. Her lips and tongue worked quickly as she ran her hands gently up his legs; his muscles were rigid with tension. He lifted her hair up, baring her neck as he reached his release. She groaned as the exquisite pulsing echoed in her own body. She looked at him, dazed, before swallowing his seed.

He gently pushed her down onto the bed and put another dollop of honey in her mouth. She savored its sweetness mingling with the taste of him, closing her eyes, before he kissed her deeply. With the edge of urgency softened from her sharing of thoughts, she opened her mind to him more fully, thinking of Preya’s words that she would remove the band so she could give another person all her thoughts. Something in Velsa always yearned to be closer to Grau; she had never imagined she could be so close to anyone. Her childhood had been so lonely, and she bore her loneliness quietly, but she never wanted to feel that way again.

She opened the doors on her yearning, her love, her fears and hopes. Even the fact that sometimes she wanted nothing more than to be his possession, and other times she resented him for the same.

He held her in his arms, he looked at her with his eyes half-closed; mere slits of his brown eyes visible, and she felt his resistance soften. He let her mind reach into his. She had told him that she could already guess his thoughts by now, and indeed, she did not find many surprises. She knew he loved nothing more than to give her a real life and share with her the things he loved—nature and magic and food. She knew he had found her enthralling from the start; that he barely understood it at first and was sometimes ashamed that he had ever gone to the House of Perfumed Ribbons to begin with. She knew he struggled with the way people treated her, that this had taken him off guard.

What did surprise her was the depth of his certainty that she was not a tainted soul. He had
said
he didn’t believe it, but she was never sure if attraction had simply overwhelmed belief. From childhood, he would have grown up with Fanarlem servants around, with being told that they were there to serve Daramons. He would have seen the way Fanarlem were depicted in stories and read things like the
Treatise on Fanarlem
, from the Wodrenarune whose word was presented as truth. 

But just as she had her moment under the moonlight where she knew it wasn’t true, his faith in her was just as unshakable.

She started to cry.

“No,” he said. “Why cry?”

She shook her head.

“Why is my little marsh toad crying?”

That almost made her laugh.

She felt him raise his resistance to her mind again. “Better to keep a little mystery,” he said. “It’s almost too much.”

She nodded agreement. “I’m glad we shared this once, though. I needed to know how you really feel. It’s so hard for me trust.” She pressed against him. “Grau, I love you.”

It was the first time she had told him. “I love you too, my dearest. But you already know that.”

The sound of a piercing siren suddenly tore through the entire camp.

“Damnit, just when I was feeling ready for part two,” Grau muttered. “Why do we always get interrupted?” He pulled away from her and looked out the window. “The patrols still aren’t back. I hope it’s a tornado. The sky is looking pretty nasty in the west.”

“You
hope
it’s a tornado? I don’t know about that! This building is pretty rickety.”

He was counting the alarms as he pulled on his clothes. “Five? That can’t be all. That’s…a severe enemy threat.”

“Are we at war? No one’s said anything, have they?”

They hurried out to the lawn. Wind scattered papers and leaves. Everyone who remained to defend the camp was gathering. Their numbers were few—twenty or so, and Archel in command. Dlara was out with Grau’s usual squad, along with Rawly and everyone they knew best.

If something happened, it couldn’t possibly be good to have Archel leading the men. He had made no secret of his resentment that his concubine had run off while Grau and Velsa remained.

The men were pointing, not toward the gray clouds darkening the western sky, but to a black silhouette that stood against the pale blue sky to the east. 

A dragon.

Even from a distance, it could only be a dragon, as large as it was.

Velsa clung to Grau, mesmerized by the sight even as she felt a little weak thinking of the destruction dragons could wreak. She had never expected to see a dragon in her life, and even if it killed her, it was worth taking a moment to appreciate.

“It’s real,” Grau breathed.

“Well, stop gaping!” Archel cried. “We won’t have many chances to get that thing! We need everyone armed with poison on your bullets, and the catapult readied. Sorcerer Thanneau, can you manipulate the wind to get that projectile where it needs to go? Hopefully in its mouth.”

“Sir—with all due respect, I don’t think we should try to fight the dragon. It’ll only anger the beast. Dragons are telepathic. It can deflect my magic easily, and I don’t think this would be an easy shot even if it
wasn’t
telepathic. We’re no match for it. Our best hope is to scatter and hide, and hope it’s just passing through.”

“Hide? In the woods? Die like cowards?”

“You’re saying we should die like an easy target. If we scatter, some of us might live.”

“We won’t get far enough.” Archel’s eyes were points of dark fury. “You follow my orders or you leave and I’ll report you for insubordination. I won’t just sit there and twiddle my fingers while I burn to death.”

“This is hopeless,” Grau said, as Archel stalked off. “Fighting a dragon is madness, but I suppose it’s damned if we do, damned if we don’t. If the dragon is coming for us on purpose…our chances are grim no matter what we choose.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Velsa asked.

“Just try to keep it from getting in our heads.”

She looked around, seeing their small numbers—a handful of men emerging with their rifles, the creaking of the catapult being wheeled around to face the dragon—as if the dragon couldn’t change directions the moment it spotted the catapult. They were just going through the motions, weren’t they?

The camp had never been intended to fight off dragons. It was just a defenseless little outpost. 

The dragon was already much closer, no longer just a shadow; she could see the pale color of the scales on its belly.

Lightning split the sky behind them, thunder booming just a moment later. The sky itself seemed to be warning them to hide. Grau turned his face toward the wind. “
That
might be our only hope,” he said. 

“The storm will scare it off?”

“I’ve heard that lightning is actually fairly easy to harness…” He turned toward the dragon again, and was quiet, as if it transfixed him. “The last magical beasts in all the world. I almost wish I didn’t mind if it killed me.”

“Thanneau!” Archel shouted. “Don't just stand there, help us ready more of these poison bullets.” He whirled on the camp cook, who was heading for the gate. “And where are you going?”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” the cook said, his face drained of color. “I’m not burning to death.”

“Anyone else want to die alone?” Archel barked at the men, sounding panicked. No one else said much, but then, their faces said it all.

It was hard to believe that just moments ago, Velsa had her arms around Grau, warm and content. Now it was possible they might share a horrible end.

She could feel a tingle in her mind, before the dragon was truly upon them. It probed them, probably judging their numbers. She expected its mind to feel much stronger than any person, and somewhat alien besides, but this was not the case. The beast was powerful, yes, but more familiar than she expected. Its thoughts were not so different from hers; this gave her a glimmer of hope.

“Girl.”

Velsa realized Archel was speaking to her. She shrunk back. He had never directly addressed her before. “I have a name,” she said.

Grau had moved to help with the bullets, but he was not far away. He and another man were crouched on the ground, picking up bullets with tongs and rolling them in poison dust. Two other men loaded them. 

“Velsa,” Archel said, and she felt he was suppressing sarcasm. He didn’t think much of her, but he
wanted
something. “You’re a telepath, aren’t you?”

So, word had leaked out. “Yes…”

“You know this might be your chance to protect the life of your beloved Grau.”

“I’ve spoken to her,” Grau said. “She will fight with us.”

“We could cover
her
in poison. Fling her at the dragon. They find our flesh rather tasty, and if it sees arms and legs flying its way, chances are it will snap her up without realizing.”

Grau opened his mouth a few seconds before he found words. “That’s—that’s insane! You know Lieutenant Dlara would never approve of such a plan. I’m not going to sacrifice Velsa to save the camp. I
will
walk before I let that happen.”

“She’s a Fanarlem!” Archel snapped. “Our slave. Your slave, yes, but in such a time as this, she is a slave to all people. For the sake of one slave, we might save all the men. It seems such a simple solution. Elegant, really.”

Some of the men were watching now, and no one stood up for her besides Grau. 

Grau made a move toward Velsa, and Archel seized Velsa’s arm. He gestured and some of the other men rushed to his side, surrounding Velsa. A few rifles pointed at Grau.

“This is
no
time to be fighting!” Grau cried. “Look, it’s almost here. It can see us by now, I’m sure. Their eyesight is very keen.”

“All the more reason why we have to hurry.” Archel yanked on Velsa.

She wanted to hurt him. Her powers were blind instinct—no precision, no skill. Just anger and terror, thrust at him from some white hot place deep inside her mind.

The anger wasn’t even just for her. It was for Flower, too. She hated Flower, but she hated what Archel had done to her all the more. 

Archel screamed like he’d been struck. He clutched his chest and spat blood, then dropped to his knees. 

She didn’t expect the attack to be so effective, and it made her hesitate. She felt a faint recoil, a brief flash of pain within her own body, and had to pause to master herself—even as a shot cracked in her ears. Someone had fired on Grau, maybe on accident from sheer panic, because no more shots followed. Grau swept an arm at the wind, knocking the arrow from the sky, before Velsa could even think to try and save him herself. If he hadn’t been alert for the attack, it would have hit his head.

Everyone was plunged into confusion when Archel collapsed. The catapult wasn’t ready. Some of the poisoned rifles were, but everyone looked as if they already knew the dragon would not fall from a few small doses of poison, if they could land a shot at all. None of their plans would come to fruition. The dragon was almost upon them, and they stood paralyzed by its terrible majesty.

To call it an animal or even a beast seemed unfair. It was a beautiful creature, from head to toe, long and slender in body with scales that shone pearlescent on its belly, shading to blue on its back. It seemed like a crystal made flesh. Its wings, too, had a translucent quality, as if they were spun from colored glass. The wings were as wide as the body was long; sweeping waves of air as the dragon came upon them.