Chapter 16

“Let’s go over them again, shall we?” Trainer Dolohov asked, his tone sickly sweet.

Draco swallowed against the trepidation he’d come to associate with that tone in Dolohov’s voice. “If that is your will, Master.” As Trainer Dolohov titled Draco’s chin up, Draco glued his gaze onto the floor. He’d been punished far too often for meeting the man’s eyes without permission.

Releasing Draco’s chin and stepping back, Trainer Dolohov made a soft sound of approval. “You’re improving,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” Draco said, flushing. When he’d agreed to be trained as an Anchor, he had only known that he was to be taught how to submit. He hadn’t expected Antonin Dolohov, one of the most renowned dark wizards, to be the one training him. But the man lived up to his reputation – in the span of a month, he’d taught Draco the essentials of what it meant to be an Anchor. Now, over a year later, Draco was set to “graduate” from the course. If he could convince Dolohov that he had truly mastered what it meant to submit.

“What rules must you always obey if you are chosen as an Anchor, even if a Warden knows nothing about the bond?” Trainer Dolohov asked.

Draco cleared his throat. “I must obey every command given to me. I must never forget to address my Warden as such. I must be respectful at all times. I may not make eye contact with my Warden without permission. I may not do magic without permission. I may not question the motives of my Warden. I must answer all questions posed to me by my Warden as honestly and thoroughly as possible. I must show gratitude for every privilege my Warden offers me. These are the rules I must always obey, Master.”

“And what must you never tell a Warden?”

Draco closed his eyes, his stomach threatening to empty as the answer came easily to his lips. “I must never tell a Warden about the bond’s ability to cause me pain on its own, Master.”

Trainer Dolohov pressed himself against Draco’s back and held the point of his wand at Draco’s throat. “Why is it forbidden to tell a Warden?” he asked.

Struggling not to panic at the wand pressing against his jugular, Draco forced himself to take a deep breath before responding. “Because a Warden with enough power, armed with that knowledge, could erase Dark magic from the world, Master,” Draco said, his voice a whispering tremble.

“And if that were to happen?” Trainer Dolohov prompted.

“The world would end, Master. The balance would be lost.” The very thought of such a thing terrified Draco. A Warden who knew about the bond’s ability to cause pain would be able to pinpoint the origin of the very first Warden-Anchor bond, the origin of Dark magic itself. And, if powerful enough, that Warden would be able to unbind the origin, and the world would fall into chaos.

Draco woke in a cold sweat, shivering as he realized he’d fallen asleep on Harry’s couch. He squinted groggily at the clock over the mantel, barely able to make out the time. Half past three. Stretching as he stood, Draco made his way to the bathroom to relieve himself, trying desperately to shake the remnants of the dream from his conscious.

It wasn’t proving easy, however, and by the time he made it back to the couch, he was wide awake, trying not to shake with the power of the knowledge he was forced to keep concealed. Anchors protected the balance by keeping the knowledge of the origin from Wardens, but Draco wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to keep that secret. Not when the bond between him and Harry had proved to be sentient.

Soft footsteps startled him out of his thoughts, and he gasped as Harry leaned over the couch and wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“No, Warden,” Draco said, keeping his voice soft. “Did I wake you?”

Harry snorted. “No. I passed out at about 5 o’clock. Even magical exhaustion can’t keep me down for long.” He turned his head so that his lips brushed Draco’s ear. “Now, why are you having trouble sleeping?”

Draco shivered at the intimacy of the touch, growing aroused. “I was thinking about the bond, Warden.”

Teeth closed over his earlobe as Harry bit down, hard.

Draco yelped and had to fight not to pull away. Tears sprang to his eyes. That had hurt!

“Stop calling me Warden,” Harry said, releasing his earlobe. He came around to the front of the couch and sat, folding his legs under him as he leaned against Draco. “You’ve been doing a lot of things that don’t make sense for you to do. You’re not naturally this submissive,” he said. “So tell me why you are acting as if you’re trying out for the perfect Anchor award.”

Draco took a deep breath and cautiously rubbed his ear, checking to see if there was blood. Finding none, he stared at Harry and let out a deep sigh. “I was trained for this,” he said. “My father hired Antonin Dolohov to teach me how to properly submit to a Warden if I was ever accepted as an Anchor.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I could tell you’d been trained, but Draco?” He leaned in so that their foreheads were touching. “You’re mine. Which means I’ll teach you to submit the way I want you to. Understand?”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat at those words and he let out a soft moan of desire. “Yes, I understand,” he said.

Harry’s face lit up as he smiled. “Good,” he said, leaning forward to claim Draco’s mouth in a kiss.

Draco lost himself in the passion of Harry’s kiss, absent-mindedly reaching forward to stroke his cock through his pants. Before he could even touch, Harry slapped his hand. Chagrined, Draco placed his hand down on the couch beside him, moaning as Harry deepened the kiss. Draco whimpered as the kiss ended and Harry drew back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“The rules from before remain in place,” Harry said. “You may only cum with my permission and in my presence.”

Draco let out a soft mewl of frustration. “Yes, Harry,” he said, startling himself with the address. Swallowing hard, terrified he’d made a terrible mistake, he risked a glance at Harry’s face. What he saw there surprised him.

Instead of the anger he was expecting, Harry’s eyes were darkening with lust. He jerked his head toward the floor, using one hand to guide Draco into a kneeling position on the floor. Once Draco was in place, Harry freed his cock from the confines of his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at Draco.

Draco smirked, leaning forward, and took the tip of Harry’s cock in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the shaft as he slid his mouth down the length. Before he could start moving, Harry’s hands came down on his shoulders, stilling him. Without warning, Harry moved his hands to the sides of Draco’s face and thrust hard into Draco’s mouth. Eyes watering at the unexpected assault, Draco forced his throat to relax as Harry fucked his face. This was rough, hot sex, and Draco pushed his hands behind him to keep from reaching down and trying to get himself off. Being used like this… he mewled low in his throat. It was like Harry had reached into his head and pulled out one of his fantasies. The fact that he might not be allowed to cum hit him, and Draco moaned as the thought sent more blood racing to his cock. Harry came with a shout and Draco moved back so that he could swallow without choking.

Harry leaned forward and claimed a searing kiss from Draco, then looked down at the obvious bulge in Draco’s pants. He patted Draco’s cock through the fabric, eliciting a soft moan of need from the blonde. “I’m not generous enough to let you cum more than once a week,” he said, smiling as the half-stricken look Draco gave him was accompanied with a low moan of desire. “Now, care to tell me why the bond is keeping you from sleep?”

Draco bit back another moan as Harry began to massage his cock through his trousers, knowing that there would be no release. He took a deep breath and held his arm up to Harry so that the signal band was in Harry’s reading range. At the quizzical look Harry shot him – while still working his dick through his pants – Draco drew in a ragged breath. “The bond is sentient,” he said. “Alia, if you will, introduce yourself to Harry.”

The signal band flashed gold: Good morning, Harry. I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.

Harry stared at the band, slack-jawed, his hand stilling on Draco’s cock. He sat back against the couch and alternated between staring at Draco and at the signal band. “Did you know this was going to happen?” he asked, unable to keep an accusing note out of his tone.

Draco winced. “No, Warden,” he said. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

Alia flashed gold at them: That makes three of us. I’ve never been able to talk before.

Chapter Fifteen     Index     Chapter Seventeen

  • Categories

  • Archives

  • Meta

%d bloggers like this: