The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens Book 1 by Raven Storm (find a book to read .txt) 📗

up from them as soon as we appeared, though slowly and with more care than they usually did. I shot Benedict a filthy look as I hurried to Kieran, my hand tucking his hair out of his eyes to see his face better. Large bruises and cuts marred his face, even as he gently pushed my hands away.

“Are you alright?”

I turned towards Ronan, who didn’t look any better.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Kieran began, wincing as he took a step towards me. “it’s our own fault for letting it get out of hand. We should have had D’Arcy or Benedict with us to train you.”

His left eye was black, and his lip split open.

“This will help remind us to have better control.” He limped heavily on one side of his body, and his normally carefree grin was more of a grimace.

“I’m sorry, Wren. I... lost myself.” If Kieran was upset, Ronan was downright miserable. My gaze flitted between them and Benedict’s unflinching expression. I licked my lips, remembering how Benedict had healed himself using my blood. Making a quick decision, I tossed my nose into the air.

“Let’s go into one of your private rooms. You can wait out here.” I stuck one finger in Benedict’s hard chest, even as his eyes narrowed in suspicion and a low growl rumbled in his chest. Kieran and Ronan didn’t bother looking at the larger, angry draken; Kieran opened the first door on the left, and we entered. A modest room with a medium-sized bed took up most of the space, with a small chest at the foot of the bed. I shut the door behind us, and Kieran wrung his hands nervously.

“I don’t think this is a good idea. What if—"

“You won’t hurt me,” I insisted, tossing my hair behind my shoulders.

“In fact, I dare you not to hurt me. If it gets out of hand, I simply scream for help, and Benedict beats the shit out of you. Again. You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”

They both cringed and shook their heads. I crossed the small space and sat on the bed, sliding my boots off as I went. They stared at my bare legs as I patted the spot next to me. I tried to act with more confidence than I felt; this new version of myself would need some more practice, but there was no time like the present.

With every fight with Benedict, or new trick with my knife, I felt more of the old, scared girl inside of me dying. I wasn’t going to mourn her.

“Come here.” I gestured to both with two fingers.

Ronan moved first, with Kieran just behind him. They sat on either side of me, stiff as boards. I reached up and ran my hands through Kieran’s red hair, mindful of a large cut on his forehead. I’d never seen red hair before meeting him, so I took my time admiring it as Kieran sighed, relaxing against my shoulder. Each strand looked like liquid fire as I twined it through my fingers.

I shifted and gestured for Ronan to lay his head in my lap, and my free hand went to work on his hair. Slowly, their muscles relaxed, and their eyes drifted closed. When I deemed them suitably relaxed, I pulled Kieran close to me, my voice no louder than a whisper so Benedict wouldn’t overhear.

“I want to heal both of you.”

Kieran’s pulse quickened, and Ronan jerked from my lap.

“You can’t heal us.”

I bent my head back, exposing my throat to Kieran as I dragged my wrist across Ronan’s lips, tempting him. Kieran’s fingers ran a path down my neck, nearly vibrating with anticipation.

“Well, it worked for Benedict. Take it or leave it.”

Ronan didn’t hesitate, both of his hands seizing my wrist as one fang delicately cut along a vein. He stifled a quick moan as hot blood trickled in his mouth, his skin shimmering as the wounds twisted and began to fade away. Kieran growled slightly but lost his battle of wills, his fangs sinking into my offered throat a moment later. I tensed as there was a split second of pain, but it was quickly overcome by a wave of pleasure. Arousal curled itself around me, lazily spreading throughout my body. I drifted on a hazy cloud as they drank from me, their lips gliding across my skin with an agonizing gentleness, juxtaposed to the sharpness of their fangs. They drank greedily, their mouths and tongues feasting on my body like starving men. I felt light-headed but was too drugged out of my mind to care.

“Stop. Ronan, stop.”

Kieran’s voice was raspy above me; his lips tinged red as he snatched my wrist away from Ronan. The other draken growled, then shook his head when Kieran smacked him in the face. They stared at each other.

I wondered when they would shut up already and pay attention to me instead. I stubbornly tugged Kieran’s head down and he chuckled, returning to lick my neck as Ronan did the same to my wrist. The small cuts healed over, and they glanced down at me, exchanging dark looks.

“Her skin is too pale, and her heart rate too slow.”

“We took too much. We’ll have to give some back.”

Ronan shot a slightly awed gaze at me.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

My eyes snapped open, and my first thought was how loud Kieran’s blood was, pumping through his veins the way it was. Surely, he wouldn’t miss a little—

I lunged, sinking my teeth into Kieran’s shoulder, my need for his blood overpowering every other thought. He winced but didn’t push me away as I took several mouthfuls, then withdrew. It was red like mine but tinged with orange and gold. Blood wasn’t supposed to taste good, like a wine that had been expertly aged and seasoned. Perhaps it was a draken thing?

“Was that enough?”

My eyes went wide at the prospect of more. Ronan, sigh and offered his wrist. I fell upon him immediately, nearly moaning as his blood cleared