Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Edric Falk tossed his cell phone onto the glass-topped, wrought-iron, side table that sat next to his bed. The clinging sound rang through his head. It had been an exceedingly long drive in.
He’d been in upstate New York picking up the latest model, supercharged Range Rover that he’d purchased as a wedding gift for his new sister-in-law. The luxury SUV was the best in its class with all the perks and bonuses.
He’d had it custom painted in a metallic white with silver accents that was reminiscent of his brother’s IceDragon. Tailor made teal colored leather seats graced the interior of the vehicle. It was gorgeous, not to mention safe and sturdy. Overall, he approved of the quality of the vehicle.
Sander was not his closest brother, but he was a favorite of the other three as he was the youngest. The baby, his mother had called him. He could still recall his sweet Ama’s face the day she introduced them to the youngest Falk.
Sander was always a stubborn one, but now he was getting married to his one true mate. A Dragon could not hope for a more blissful state or, so he’d been told by both Sander and Callius, his oldest and closest brother.
The two of them mated. It was almost impossible for Edric to conceive of the notion. He stretched his muscles, stiff from the six-hour drive. He shook his head and sat down heavily. He wished he could have flown, but he didn’t trust the car to anyone else. Besides, he wanted to test it in the wintry conditions they were experiencing this February in South Jersey.
The SUV handled well in the extreme weather. He was satisfied. He parked it in the garage and fastened an enormous bright teal colored bow on the top of it. Noelle would love it if what he knew about the woman was true. For Sander, he had only one gift, and that was a wish for him to be genuinely happy as Edric himself would never experience.
Fuck it, he exhaled. He wasn’t going to sit around all day. After the long drive, he needed to expel some energy. Edric grabbed his sneakers and headed downstairs. He spent the next three hours punishing himself in the state-of-the-art gym and dojo that they’d built inside of Castle Falk.
He was a warrior, and although he’d tired of the fighting, he enjoyed the release he usually felt after a hard workout. He lifted weights, ran on the treadmill, free climbed the rock wall, and did deadlifts until he thought he couldn’t stand anymore, but even after all that he still felt on edge.
He returned to his room and sat down hard on the edge of his bed. He peeled off his sneakers and tossed them in the small trash can. He’d ripped the damn things again. Thank the Gods he had a dozen more pairs in his closet.
The bed was monstrous in size. Extravagant with its dozen or more pillows and thick velvet coverlet. After five hundred years of sleeping on cold stone floors, he figured he was entitled to a little luxury. He stripped off his clothes and stretched his sore muscles, catching a glimpse of his body in the mirror.
He was not vain, but he kept in shape. Being a Dragon shifter didn’t mean you were guaranteed to have an athletic physique. As with anything, it took work. He had an enormous appetite and spent hours every day in training or in the air to spend the extra calories. He’d learned long ago to keep his body perfectly honed and ready for battle. Just in case.
He’d spent most of his servitude waging war for a tyrant to atone for a crime that was not his. He’d learned early not to lapse in his training, mental focus and physical prowess were his best weapons. He’d survived hundreds of battles and yet, only one scar marred his bronzed skin.
The small puncture wound was barely visible inside of the dark red rose that sat over his heart. His ruby rose. The mystical symbol of the bond that would connect him to his maiden. A Dragon needed a mate, else he would die. It was really that simple.
It was a ragged looking thing. Thin and shriveled among all the bulging muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen. It had once been on the verge of blooming, only to be struck down. The pain had been like a knife to his heart. Never again.
His lips formed a thin line as he headed to his bathroom. He slammed the door shut and vowed once again that he would never be taken in by the opposite sex again. I will die first. His vow echoed inside his mind’s eye, and he closed his eyes at the roar of his beast inside him. He was angry and wounded.
Edric could feel the furious pounding of his heart. The heart he and his Dragon shared. It was hard and hollow. The air outside echoed that sound and Callius threw his head back and growled. He was a ThunderDragon. Rare and unique, he could call upon the weather to hurt his enemies.
The connection, however, also meant the weather sometimes reflected his moods. Storms seemed to follow him around. Betrayal did that to a Dragon. He frowned and turned his head.
He would not dwell on the past anymore. After all, he was home now to celebrate his brother. Edric blew out a breath and looked at his room. Except for the bed, the room was sparsely furnished. In fact, his entire wing was rather empty.
Clean and functional, he told himself. The warrior in him didn’t have any fond memories that he cared to recollect. His soon to be sister-in-law, Noelle, had asked his youngest brother, Sander, to make him one of the prize tapestries he was renowned for in their world. He’d been honored by so valuable a gift.
It was the only piece of art to grace his walls. The tapestry depicted Edric in Dragon form. The glittering red scales winked at him in the light from the sun that streamed in through the large glass window. They had no neighbors in sight, so he hadn’t bothered with curtains or drapes.
Edric had lived behind stone walls too long. He liked the sense of freedom he got from the uninhibited view. He thoroughly approved of Callius’ choice to build Castle Falk on the sea. The view was breathtaking. He never imagined he’d see the New World, much less live in it.
From what he’d heard, he expected New Jersey to be an unfinished, smog infested wasteland of degenerates. However, much to the contrary, he found it to be surprisingly beautiful. He was fond of the aptly named Garden State.
His bathroom was enormous, like the rest of the castle. Green marble tiles ran across the floor, the shower stall was large enough to fit four of him inside, and with a single voice command he turned on all six shower heads. His preferred temperature and water pressure already programmed into the main controls.
His brother Nikolai was the resident genius. Edric did not necessarily like technology, but he was getting used to it. He increased the room temperature and ordered a little mood music while he soaped himself up. The smell of clementines and lemons filled the room. Yes, he thought, he did like modern times and conveniences.
Then again, anything was better than where he’d spent the last five-hundred years as a prisoner on the Isle of Pain. The name was perfect. It was a cold, dark, and desolate place. His memories of it even darker. Especially, when he thought of his once almost betrothed. No, Edric, do not think of her. He tried to turn his thoughts to something else, but it was too late.
His mind raced back to a time when he was younger, more foolish. When all he dreamt about was tasting freedom again. He’d planned to break his bonds through his prowess on the battlefield. His goal was to claim the wench who’d captivated him. She who had served at his former Chief’s beck and call.
Theodosia’s platinum hair hung down in glowing pools around her hips as she climbed on top of him. Her pale skin was marred with the dirt of her toils for the day, but he didn’t mind. Edric was dusty and bloody after his latest battle, but she liked him that way, or so she said. She rode him long and hard, groaning loudly as she fondled her own breasts and flung her head back.
She smelled of rose oil and lye as always. Prime ingredients for the soap she crafted for the Chief himself. She toiled away daily in a small, dark room in the basement of Castle Blackthorne. Edric had once been called on to deliver the sharp smelling lye to her workroom, and that was where he’d met her.
He enjoyed the feel of her soft, warm body as he thrust in and out of her womanhood. After the day’s battle, he was tired and spent, but he could never get enough of the pretty thing who moaned astride him. She slowed her pace just as he was about to explode inside of her and he gripped the hay bale he sat on in frustration, but she grinned haughtily and stopped her movement altogether.
“What have you brought me, Edric, my brave one, come now, give it, or I shall sit here and not move a muscle,” she raised her hands and caressed his slick chest while he gasped and tried to move. She was as strong as she was stubborn, his Theodosia, and she sat straight up, sending shivers of delight up his shaft, but not moving a muscle more.
“My gift, Edric, now,” she said and brought her fingers to her nipples and squeezed and pulled, tempting and teasing him with the sight.
He knew she wouldn’t continue their tryst without a trinket. She’d stop cold, she’d done so before. He understood that now. He pulled a strand of silk from his dirty and worn pocket. From the middle of the red ribbon hung a large black pearl. It was rare and precious, as was his time with her.
“Tis lovely, Edric, but I want more,” she pinched one flat, male nipple as she lifted herself almost all the way off him, but Edric would have none of that. Not when he felt so near to bursting. He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a small sack of gold coins.
Theodosia’s eyes lit with pleasure, and she slammed back down on his thick cock making him growl with pleasure. He plunged in and out of her a few times more, desperate for his completion. The brief oblivion that came when his cock was spent was worth the game and toil, he’d told himself. Afterwards, he’d scurried back to his confinement.
“Soon, Thea, you will be mine,” he’d often told her. As usual, she seemed not to hear him because she was wrapped up in admiration of the pearl, he’d given her. It was just her way, he’d told himself, she’d never spoken soft words to him. It did not matter. He was ready to mate.
Sure, stealing from the plunder of Chief Blackthorne was unwise, but he had to have her. His ruby rose for certain. Why else would his body lust so for hers? Each minute he’d spent in that hole, she’d been his light in all the darkness. His heart, his true mate, just like his mother had once said to him.
A week or so after that, the Chief had summoned Edric to his quarters. It was an unusual request, but he was nothing to refuse. Edric had entered the opulently decorated quarters when he was bid to do so. The sight that had greeted him still haunted him.
His Theodosia had been bent over on all fours among the pile of furs and silks. She’d been grinning and moaning like a wildcat as his jailer, Chief Dragomir Blackthorne, had thrust into her from behind. Edric could still hear her moans, still see her push her body back into the soft, flabby, white flesh of his then Chief. Edric’s heart had turned to stone that night.
“You see how she howls like a dog, Edric, does she do this for you?” The Chief had laughed and laughed. His guards held him and forced him to watch as he’d fucked the woman Edric had thought to mate. When he was finished, he lifted his long, braided hair to show off his black pearl choker.
“What thinks you of this trinket from my bitch here? Ha ha ha, tasty is it not?”
Later he’d gone straight down to his cell, lifted his sharpest dagger and drove it into his heart, but Dragons were never easy to kill and Callius, his brother and fellow warrior, would not see him dead yet.
Edric was roused from his past by the sound of his cell phone’s alarm. Fuck. He had only thirty-minutes to dress for dinner. Then he had to try and remain pleasant and sociable. After all, it was his brother’s wedding weekend. For the first time, the four brothers would be in residence at Castle Falk at the same time.
It was momentous indeed.