The Lost Siren: Rise of the Drakens, #1

By Raven Storm

A human female born into a breeding manor never has a choice…I am a slave, but at least I am alive.

 

When the man with wings and scales gave me a second choice—I took it. I'll do what I must to survive. I'll preside over their Draken Games—and choose a winner every night to share my bed. It's the price I have to pay for food in my belly, and a roof over my head. 

 

The dragon man who brought me here acts like he hates me, but I notice him always watching me. As if he's waiting for something. 

 

Traded from one prison to the next I have but one hope left—the Lost Siren. I must find her before the demon hordes come if these men—Drakens—have any chance of escaping their mountainous prison, and me along with them.

 

Perfect for fans of Jennifer L. Armentrout, The Lost Siren is the exhilarating introduction to the Rise of the Drakens series.

This is a full length reverse harem/poly fantasy novel. Warning: there are dark themes and possible triggers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raven Storm
• Release date: May 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986154305

Raven Storm

Raven has always loved to write, but just recently gained the courage to start publishing a few of her romances. Raven's stories will always feature strong females who are figuring out their place in the world, as well as lots of spice! When she's not reading or writing, Raven is teaching music or performing. Thanks for following!

Book preview

Chapter

One

Ididn’t ask to be kidnapped, but I wasn’t exactly protesting it either.

I’d just had a good cry in the stables, my usual hiding place when Lord Crullfed got too heavy with his hands and cane. The night was calm, the sounds of the crickets in the field soothing to my ears. I was thankful the beating had been shorter than normal. Ten minutes in, another servant interrupted Crullfed, and he rushed off to see a girl. Rumor said she was leaving tonight. I assumed he’d sold her, which was common with the prettier slaves.

I was afraid of many things, and being shipped off to an unknown location was one of them. All I knew of the world were the stone walls of this house, and the stables and fields out back.

The quiet of the night was a balm to my pain and my nerves. It was the exact opposite of the breeding house, which was always filled with the cries and moans of women. They labored to bring new human slaves into the world only to have their babies taken away and sold at auction to the training houses. The training houses raised them, turning a tidy profit by renting or selling the humans as they got older. A vampyre or demon would pay top dollar for a well-trained human with the right lineage and looks.

As a human of unknown origin dropped on the doorstep twenty-two years ago, I had neither. My unsuitability to be a broodmare or expensive slave was just fine with me; being a servant was much more of a life than many other humans could boast. Within the breeding house, I was mostly protected. Crullfed hated me, but he hated anyone else laying hands on me worse. In that way, I was protected from the male breeders that often roamed the hallways.

Once, I’d seen Crullfed stick a man like a pig for refusing to leave me alone. I was thankful but suitably terrified. Crullfed still beat me afterwards. Attracting the man’s attention had been my fault.

I shared a small room with five other girls. The windows were cracked, and we were forced to stuff the edges with spare bits of fabric and dirt to try and stave off the bitter winds during winter. I had a thin blanket, a cot, one spare dress, and no other possessions.

It wasn’t an ideal existence, but at least I was inside the manor.

Outside, humans were prey.

When the Overlord won the Demon Wars, he and his allies took over the entire continent, as far as I knew. Slaves aren’t exactly educated. All I had were Clarice’s bedtime stories. I know our bit of land is called Dorea, but that is all. Hundreds of years ago humans had ruled, hunting down warring bands of lykoses, wolfen creatures that could pass for humans if the timing of the moon was right. We lived in fear of the vampyres, whose bloodlust was unquenchable, and the demons who kept finding their way into our realm. Crullfed was a lower ranking vampyre, but the demons found him useful with his wealth and lands.

Things hadn’t always been this way according to Clarice. She was the elderly nursemaid who looked out for most of the birthing mothers and younger servants. She claimed there was a time when humans held dominion over the world and hunted down starving vampyres in packs. There were no demons with their magicks and powers, and the other magical creatures left us alone, or so she’d said. It was hard to imagine existing as anything other than what we were, slaves.

The continent known as Dorea stretched from the mountains in the north to the valleys and forests of the south. The west was cut off by the deserts, making travel and trade in that direction impossible. The land flattened to the sea on the east, and that was the entirety of my knowledge. I only knew this much because I was in charge of cleaning Crullfed’s office. He had magnificent maps in his chamber, framed with heavy wood and dotted with colorful inks. I frequently passed my time in there tracing the paths with my eyes, wondering if life was the same for humans there as it was here.

A horse sneezed, harshly popping my bubble of thoughts. I inhaled the scent of hay and fresh manure as I leaned against a ladder. If I spent another minute sleeping in the hayloft I’d oversleep and be late for my morning chores. Crullfed would beat me, my wounds would reopen, and I’d run away again to the barn to hide. A vicious cycle that never ended.

It was any wonder I was still alive, really. Most of the breeders here only lived thirty years or so. After their birthing years, they were shoved into the fields to work until they dropped. As a servant, I could only hope to one day take Clarice’s place. At twenty-two, it was hard not to feel as though my days were numbered.

Anytime a slave died, Crullfed simply purchased a young body to take her place. The dead girl was buried directly in the field, her body used as fertilizer for the next season’s crops. I tried not to think about how many bodies I could have been standing on when I was out in the fields or eating my meals.

A fresh set of screams pierced the night, shooting through one of the second story windows. I winced. Lucretia was much too early to be giving birth now. If the baby died, she’d be whipped and likely sent to the fields. It wasn’t her first miscarriage.

Lucretia was awful to me, but that didn’t mean I’d let her suffer. If there was something I could do to help her, then I would. Being kind was the only choice in my life I was able to make for myself.

I turned to go, and that’s when I saw him.

He wasn’t trying to hide, and I immediately assumed the worst. Another man come to torment me? His body was backlit by the moon, so all I could make out was his towering figure, easily dwarfing Lord Crullfed by two feet. He was devoid of any weapons, though that didn’t mean anything in a world ruled by creatures. I took a step back, afraid. I was always afraid.

I kept my eyes down on the floor, like I’d been taught since birth. Do you have business with the lord?

Come with me, he commanded, his voice inciting a shiver throughout my body.

It was deep, the rough growl of a predator. I glanced up. His eyes were amethyst; the color of Lord Crullfed’s favorite cloak and the color of grapes before the harvest. He stepped into a ray of moonlight, no longer obscured. Every detail shone. A simple leather thong held back long, black hair. Bits had been braided and fell intricately down the sides. Bare-chested, he wore dark leather pants tucked into leather boots. His skin shimmered oddly underneath the moonlight. He wasn’t a lykos or a vampyre. He was also clearly not one of the male breeders leased to Lord Crullfed. Some deep, instinctive part of me knew that whatever business he had, it was with me.

But what business? If he was here to hurt me, he wouldn’t be maintaining such a healthy distance. Most of the men who’d tried before had simply grabbed me. This one waited patiently. Calculating. His eyes were on me, but his ears twitched here and there, as if constantly scanning our surroundings. He was tightly controlled chaos and discipline, in one terrifying, muscled package.

Come with him.

Come with him where? I reconsidered my fear of leaving the breeding house. It would be interesting to see something other than these weathered walls, but I realized that what I truly feared was a lack of choice.

For the first time in my life, it appeared I had one.

The man frowned when I didn’t move towards him. He crossed the distance between us and grabbed my fist. I swallowed back memories as bile rose in my throat. The only time a man ever touched me was to hurt me.

It seemed my positive thoughts about his intentions were wrong. Thick with calluses, his skin roughly grated against mine. I tried to quell my panic. My heart thudded loudly in my chest.

He exhaled heavily, irritated. You’d rather keep living here? This offer expires in five minutes, and then I go and grab the sobbing blonde in the entrance hall instead.

Wait. What? Stop living here? My mind couldn’t process the concept of leaving the breeding manor, so it went to work on the last thing he’d said to me. The blonde was Bella, the one Crullfed had hurried off to see, leaving me bleeding on the floor. This man wanted me instead of Bella’s classic beauty and extensive training? She could dance, sing, cook, and was rumored to have been trained in the bedroom arts as well. What did I have to offer besides the ability to polish the silverware or sweep the floor?

Guilt crept up my spine as I thought of stealing someone else’s chance to get away from Crullfed’s hands, but it was also a risk. This being was not human but wasn’t any kind of creature I’d heard about either. What if he planned to use me for some nefarious purpose? Clarice terrified the younger girls to keep us inside, going on about blood magicks and demon rituals. Her stories were full of blood and gore that kept us clutching to each other in fear. Fear always worked when it came to control. It worked with me.

Please come with me, he tried again.

That word jolted me. This man clearly wasn’t from around here. I wasn’t sure why, but I needed to warn him. He tried to present a rough exterior, but it didn’t match his words. Brutes didn’t say polite words. They didn’t wait hesitantly, respecting personal space. Perhaps there was more to this man than he wanted me to know.

You don’t say please to a slave, I stammered.

His eyes narrowed to slits, and I tried to take a step back. His iron grip on my wrist prevented it, and inwardly I cursed. I could avoid half of my beatings if I stopped trying to be nice to everyone and simply minded my own business!

"You are not a slave. You’re enslaved," he insisted, with such intensity that it was all I could do to nod dumbly at him.

What was the difference?

Lucretia screamed again, and I winced. His grip tightened on my wrist, his skin hot against mine. His eyes studied me, neither demanding nor threatening. The choice hovered before me, like a phantom breeze as it brushed my face. I had so few choices in life. Wouldn’t it be foolish to discard this one?

Can . . . can I help Lucretia first? I asked timidly.

His face twisted as if he’d smelled something rotten. The one who backhanded you yesterday for missing a spot in the corner? You want to help her?

I flinched even though I knew his anger wasn’t necessarily at me. It didn’t matter where it came from. I always bore the brunt of it. Wait, how did he know about that? Lucretia always made sure we were alone before she started in on me.

We don’t have time, he tried again, his tone a bit kinder. The hard lines on his face eased, his shoulders dropping down to lose a bit of their tension.

My own body relaxed mildly. Was it magick?

I didn’t resist when he heaved me over his broad shoulders and took off running into the night. All I could do was grip onto his neck in terror as the landscape flew by underneath his feet, aimed directly north. The tall grass of the meadow whipped at his knees before giving way to underbrush and crunching leaves as we entered the woods that lay beyond the manor boundaries. A small ball of terror ignited within me as I realized this was the furthest I’d ever been in my life.

And he kept going, jumping over streams, ditches, and gullies. A large canyon opened before us, and as I screamed in terror, he leapt towards it, welcoming the black chasm with open arms. He laughed, and I screamed as we hurtled down, down, down. His back spasmed beneath me, and then we were flying as a pair of black, scaled wings pumped hard on either side of me.

Wings. Wings! I couldn’t tell which burned in my veins hotter, the fear of the unknown, or the curiosity of wanting to know what he was.

Massive rock formations rose on either side of me, and I blinked in wonder as the rocks turned to mountains. How fast had he run? I knew there were mountains to the north from Crullfed’s map but not how far they were. How did you judge distance from a picture?

A delighted roar tore from his throat as he flew higher, and all I could do was shut my eyes and hold on. The air blew wildly in my face as I clutched to him tightly.

Are you sick? he asked, likely worried I’d puke all over him.

The wind abruptly ceased to pummel my face, and I cracked one eye open. The world was dark but thankfully solid under my feet as he quickly set me down. Dim moonlight filtered in from a large opening to my left. I raced towards it, backpedaling when I was met with the edge of a cliff. The world tilted crazily as I leaned over, and a pair of strong arms snatched me back, safely away from the edge. He studied me intently, and I swallowed. His eyes were unnerving, not only for their color but for the hungry, starved way they appraised me. His wings were gone, and that odd, gleaming skin covered his back again. I had never heard of a creature that could summon wings.

He leaned towards me, and I flinched. His hand snatched at me again, holding me in place. Then he sniffed me! I tried to wriggle away as he held me in place, his arm a steel vice clamped around me. He buried his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply.

For a moment I stopped struggling, realizing it didn’t hurt. His grip was tight, but it felt secure, not bruising. My breath hitched as I realized it felt . . . nice. Safe.

He promptly dropped me as if I carried some filthy disease, effectively destroying the moment and my ease. I was acutely aware of the dirty dress I wore and the pathetic house slippers covering my feet. It would be a waste of leather to give a slave boots after all.

Enslaved person.

As if it mattered. Frowning, I inspected the brown splotch on the edge of my toe. I hoped it wasn’t blood from the previous day’s delivery. It likely was.

Let’s go, the man ordered, giving me a light prod to move forward. I lurched wildly to the side, unable to get my bearings, still woozy from flying. My hands flew out, my fingers landing on solid stone walls to the left and right. It grounded my mild nausea. The man was silent, stomping off into the darkness.

I paused, frozen with inaction. All my life I’d acted submissive to survive, to get along. To make sure the attention was off me, so I didn’t get hurt. Yet, the breeding house had been predictable, functioning with strict routines that were rarely deviated from. The fear of the unknown rose in me, a dark monster far more terrifying than the man who’d just flown me away from the only home I’d ever known.

I decided to take a small risk to test the waters. Where are we going? I dared to ask.

He sniffed, impatiently. This passageway goes underneath the mountain.

Alright, he didn’t mind questions. At least if I didn’t ask too many and irritate him. Already, this man was an improvement over Crullfed. If I wasn’t so anxious, I might have rolled my eyes at the answer that wasn’t truly an answer.

Obviously, we were going under the mountain.

His footsteps trailed away, and I blindly reached out in panic, catching the tips of his fingers. He wouldn’t let me die before I could be of use to him, would he? Surely, he didn’t mean to leave me behind.

He grunted in irritation, turning back towards me. Without a word of warning, he hefted me over his shoulder again, muttering something about humans and their weak eyesight.

Maybe if you would have worn some decent shoes . . .

A new emotion surged through me, and I allowed myself the luxury of feeling it. Annoyance. Anger. I was too busy being in awe of how it felt to stop the words that tumbled out of my mouth.

I’m terribly sorry, the next time I leave home forever I’ll be sure to bring proper footwear. I stiffened as soon as the words left my mouth, unsure what his reaction would be.

This was it. He’d realize I wasn’t worth the trouble and take me back to Crullfed. Crullfed would beat me twice. Once for being a disappointment to this man and again for daring to think I could leave the breeding manor. My unhealed back throbbed at the thought of it.

Adding to my confusion, the man merely snorted in amusement at my words and kept walking. I hung lamely over his shoulder, attempting to get my frantic breathing back under control.

Alright, so he apparently wouldn’t take me back for every tiny, little thing. That was good, right? It was hard to distract myself from my whirling thoughts when there was nothing but an endless expanse of darkness around us. Were we going to some secret, underground ritual chamber? Why was I better suited to his purposes than Bella? Was he some sort of humanoid demon? The questions wouldn’t stop, and I had no way to distract myself from my racing thoughts.

He stopped suddenly, breaking me from my dark musings. There was a loud metallic sound, and the floor underneath us groaned, lurched, and moved. He dropped me heavily, and I crossed my arms as the walls shook around us, stifling the urge to reach out to him to steady myself. After what seemed like a lifetime, a door rose in front of us, and the movement ceased. I sighed in relief as flickering torches lit the way, however dim they were.

There is one last thing before you enter the great hall, he said, turning towards me, his shoulders tense.

My head tilted to the side, curious. If I had to guess, he seemed . . . nervous.

I can’t have you walking into the hall injured.

I froze as his hand brushed my lip, heat emanating from his body in waves. I shivered unconsciously, and he jerked forward without warning, his teeth biting down onto my bottom lip. He muffled my cry as he seized my mouth, his tongue tracing the outline of a split lip I’d had for a week now. It was over as quick as