Page 15 of War Mage

“Yes,commander,” she breathes out, her breath tickling my neck.

I growl with approval at her submission and bring my fingers lower, toward her opening. Without warning, I pump my fingers into her, and she groans in satisfaction as I fill her. With expert precision, I find the rough place within her behind her clit and she cries out as I begin to massage it in earnest. Her hips begin to buck in my grip, her meeting me thrust for thrust as she chases her climax. Her naked breasts rub against my chest, her breath getting deeper and faster.

Finally, she whines out, “I’m close! Almost there! Almost!”

It’s time. I grab her left wrist and bring it up to my mouth. Without warning I increase the pace of my fingers, furiously attacking her weak spots. When I feel her channel bear down on my fingers and she gives a keening cry, I bite down, breaking the delicate skin of her wrist. The placement is a deliberate one, a place that will be easy for her to hide the bite under a sleeve or the cuff of her false chains. The taste of her blood floods my senses, spicy and sweet. Like a song in the back of my mind, I can slowly feel her emotions flooding me, her pleasure and confusion. She doesn’t understand what just happened between us and gods forgive me, I don’t think I do either. I think I let go of some of my treasured control and something I can’t take back just happened.

The mage catches her breath and then straightens up, my hand still between her thighs, and gives me a challenging grin. “Well, was that good for you,commander?”

She may be trying to embarrass me for what just happened or gain back some control of the situation after surrendering to me so completely, but something about her teasing voice calling mecommandersparks a strange longing inside me. Then, so quietly that at first I don’t notice it, my Mating Instinct raises its head.

Mine, it growls.

What?What?Is that what that needling feeling was? This cannot be. My Mating Instinct cannot rouse forher. This mating was meant to be without emotions, a logical step to ensure the success of our mission. I cannot be drawn to the mage. She is selfish, temperamental, and vengeful. She cannot be mine. Not truly. This mating bite was meant to only be skin-deep. I cannotwanther to be mine. I hate her, don’t I? Dislike her at the very least.

Reeling, I turn my face away from her, hiding my horrifying realization. I gently, but desperately push her off of me, wanting in my haste to get out of this cell as quickly as possible. My throat croaking a little in shock, I reply, struggling to keep my tone even, “If that is all settled, I’ll be going. We leave at first light tomorrow.”

Mine, whispers my Mating Instinct again.Shut up, I internally growl back.

In my chest, I can feel her confusion and a strand of hurt or offense that she quickly covers with teasing indifference.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she replies, oblivious to my rebellious feelings. “Wouldn’t want to be late to head off to our deaths.”

I don’t respond to her jibe, still trying to fight that unwelcome instinct that has woken in my chest. Opening the cell door, I use my iron will to keep myself from running back to her, from falling at her feet, and calmly close the cell behind me. I turn the key back in the lock with what should be a satisfying click, but instead, it sounds out like the knell of doom, a punctuation to the calamity I have just experienced.

“Locking the door doesn’t seem like something that should happen between mates,” she comments, walking up the grate in the door.

“I may have become your mate this night,” I choke out, barely keeping mysibilanceout of my voice.Fuck. I continue, “But you have not yet done anything to earn mytrust.”

“Bastard,” she remarks, but there’s no bite in her voice, almost like she’s amused by my words. Then she stretches, pushing her breasts back into the air, and gives a satisfied sigh. “Well, at least I got mine. I needed that.”

I do not respond, turning away and walking down the corridor, though my Mating Instinct pushes me to go back. To be near mymate.Fuck. Fuck!

I exit the dungeon and emerge into the night, the coolness of the air washing over my skin, which I realize is overheated. My cock still throbs and my heart squeezes with longing. Longing that she’ll be able to feel through our mate bond, if I’m not careful. I take a calming breath, pulling my emotions back under control, trying for a semblance of normalcy. But I get the feeling that it is all too late and nothing will ever be normal again.

Chapter 7

Grazrath

Ilounge upon the Onyx Throne, the great symbol of Barakrini power. Even though the room is permeated with the groans and screams of mortals undergoing torture by my direction, I am bored. The pain in the room is filling, feeding the need for misery within me, the ever-gnawing hunger that cannot be truly sated, but it is all so bland and boring. I have felt all this kind of pain before, from these exact creatures before. I haven’t had new stock in a while, the war with Adrik and Orik going annoyingly slow.

A sense of irritation breaks over my mind, pushing aside boredom for a bit. I introduced the vampires of Barakrin to their heritage, their birthright of feeding on sentients. The power and strength that comes with it. They should have poured over Anar’i like a horde of old, destroying and devouring everything in their wake. We even had the element of surprise on our side, and still, the orcs and humans have held us off. It is like my vampires are ungrateful for my guidance, and aren't trying hard enough.

“Malik!” I bark out, causing the scenes around me to stall, a wash of quiet going over the courtroom as everyone holds their breath to see what I will do. “Malik!”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” the former vampire prince comes forward. He has been acting as my steward and main general since I dispatched his weak, useless, father and ascended to the throne myself. Malik is a sniveling coward, but he has an uncanny knack for getting me what I want before I can grow too irritated at his presence.Cowards can have their uses, after all.

“This display bores me,” I hiss, feeling the palpable fear that rises in the room at my words.Good.“Where are my new wares from Terria? You promised me a passel of unique slaves. What is delaying Vargan the Honorless?”

“My apologies, Our Lord of Pain and Misery,” Malik says, kowtowing and bending and scraping. “We have lost contact with the ship. It may be that the Adrikian navy intercepted it on its journey from Terria.”

I curse, leaning back in my throne. “Those damn Adrikians. I will make the lot of them pay.” Especially their queen. Adalind. The one capable of unending pain, what with her Fairy-Blessed healing.Nowsheis a toy that I would never get tired of, one that I could break however I wanted only for it to fix itself again for my next amusement. And the magic in her blood would replenish my powers.

I have a secret: my magic is almost gone, making me only as strong as a regular vampire. Though I have cemented my hold on this body I am possessing, molding it to look like my true form, with my wings and horns, and keeping myself out of that cursed Nether, the human I have taken over has no magic of its own, which makes it so that I cannot replenish my demonic energy. I need a magic blood slave on whom to feed to make up for that lack; a warmblooded one. I tried feeding on a vampire mage to unleash my powers, but nothing happened. Perhaps since this body I am possessing is a warmblood I need another warmblooded magical being to be compatible, like the Adrikian queen. I had anticipated her being in my clutches weeks ago, but still, she eludes me, her orc husband keeping the battlefront stuck on the border, never giving an inch. I used most of the magic I had to take this throne and I worry that I cannot keep it if I don’t get an infusion of magic soon. I have hidden my need for magical slaves under the guise of wanting “unique” slaves, but there is always the chance that someone will notice my lack of true power soon.

I feel that irritation again. “If Vargan cannot bring me new, interesting slaves, then you must break through the battle lines and bring me back some Adrikians to play with, preferably from the Mage’s Tower,” I tell the vampire prince. “I tire of this group of slaves. Their pain is flavorless after I have tasted it so frequently. Do you wish for me to be displeased?”

Malik shivers, though he tries to mask his frightened reaction. “Why, no, of course not, Lord Grazrath. It is the happiness of Barakrin to serve your every whim.”

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