Page 23 of The Dragon Warlord
“Of course, Warlord. Something like that is decided by the alpha anyway, so I wouldn’t go for discipline unless you told me to … but I’d rather if it were you.”
He’s shaking, not with fear this time, but worry and I smile because I know why. “I may be the worst alpha in the dragon realm, but you can count on me to take care of you, okay?” Discipline is something I understand even if I’m a fucking brat about it.
“Okay, Warlord, but I don’t agree that you’re the worst alpha in the realm.”
Rolling my eyes, I release him and gesture for him to continue to guide the way. “I think you have stars in your eyes for me, Riv.”
We stop at wide double doors in the middle of a dimly lit hallway. If discipline is so commonplace around here, it should at least occur someplace nice. “Do you really want to see whatever’s about to happen to me?”
“That’s hard to answer, Warlord. I’m concerned our cultural barrier will result in you perceiving me in a way I don’t mean if I tell you.”
“How about you say what’s on your mind and we’ll sort it out after, eh? I’m supposed to be learning about dragon culture after all.” I don’t add that the sooner I do, the sooner I’ll be allowed to leave.
Because I do have to get home. If River has to come with me, then so be it, but I need to get home. I’ve been promised that very little time has passed since I’ve been gone, but it’s hard to reconcile that. Last I left my family, screechings sent by the emperor had destroyed the Mortougian palace. Bayaden’s home, Aldrien, had been smashed to the ground leaving what was left of the Aldrienians homeless and defenseless. I want to help them.
“Being taken care of—especially by one’s alpha—is supposed to be special and rewarding. I want that for you, Warlord. At the same time, discipline is something we all struggle with, and it can be hard to watch no matter how positive the outcome.”
That much I understand, if not in this particular situation because of who I am. “Discipline brings benefits and that’s the part you want for me. The part you want to witness.”
He smiles. “Yes.”
Before I know what I’m doing, my thumb smoothens a path over his sharp cheekbone. I snatch my hand away. “Let us hope His Royal Dragonness isn’t too hard on me then. I don’t mind if you watch.” I’d like him to. “Leave at any time you wish.”
He nods.
Inside, the dragon lord waits with three of his husbands. River tries to keep to protocol, but his eyes betray him. One of these husbands is River’s … other father? I don’t know how it works with all the dragon lord’s husbands, but I’d like to. I make a mental note to ask once this is done.
We take a knee before the dragon lord. I’m supposed to greet him. I don’t want to but now doesn’t seem like the best time to be a fucking brat. “Greetings, my lord.”
“Very good, pet.” Does he have to call me that? I suppose it’s the least of my worries. “But when we’re here, you’ll address me as Alpha. I don’t stop being your dragon lord, but I am less in that role when I’m taking care of you. Understood, Omega?”
My hands clench and the nails bite into my palms. I know what he wants. I can’t bring myself to answer.
“This isn’t supposed to be the hard part, Tristan, and you are kneeling incorrectly. If I am constantly correcting you for that, it will get exhausting, and your backside will be miserable.”
I glance at River beside me. He’s so full of hope for me. He believes this is helpful. If I can’t do this for the dragon lord, I can do it for him.
“I understand, Alpha,” I say between grit teeth as I kneel up on both knees at his behest.
One of the dragon lord’s husbands assist him with removing his heavy robe and then the outer layer of his attire, leaving him in a sleeveless tunic and a long skirt split on the left, exposing his thick man-thigh.
“Will I need my husbands?” the dragon lord asks. “Or will you behave?”
This is his way of giving me privacy. How kind. “I’ll behave.”
“Will your omega be coming with us?”
Right. At least that’s up to me. “He will.”
“Very well. This way.” Another set of doors opens, and we follow the dragon lord into the darkness.
* * *
We walk through a long hallway with many doors. Down here the walls are different, composed entirely of deep jade sarsen stone. With awhooshof his hand, it lights with small orbs of energy similar to how it would in Mortouge and Aldrien. We reach a tall door that is just like all the rest aside from that it’s so much taller. The dragon lord waves his hand, and it opens.
Inside, it’s more of the same. No more or less lighting, but there’s a long leather chair that could fit a man—or I suppose a dragon—if he were seated and his legs were extended. It’s fitted with leather straps.
My heart beats a fast, terrorized rhythm and my cock jumps. Great, I’m terrified and turned on at the same time. Perfect if Corrik were here, but he’s not. Alrik would be like a child in a Markaytian candy shop in this room. There are other things too. Chains hanging from the high ceiling. A wall of instruments, which I assume are dragon versions of what live in Corrik and Alrik’s cupboards of things to whack Tristan with.
