I bite my lip and feel my eyes roll back into my head as Sarak starts to bounce me up and down, my once tight ass now accommodating the thickest, hardest, most devastatingly long cock I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.
Soon, we’re working in unison, and my hands are draped around Sarak’s neck, our lips and tongues intertwined as we kiss. I buck by hips, grind, and bounce, all in service to my Daddy and to make sure that after tonight, he never wants another elf again.
“Harder,” I plead, my fingers now digging into the back of Sarak’s neck, the urge to feel his seed shoot inside me growing almost unbearably strong. “Mmmph. More. More.”
With that, Sarak takes me off his dick and bends me over. Barely a second passes before I feel his cock plunge inside my ass once more and the protective touch of his wings wrap around me to fix me in place.
Sarak builds up the speed and power of his thrusts and in a moment of pure bliss, I feel his hot cum fire inside my ass. For a moment, I feel like I might pass out as I’m surrounded by stars, colorful constellations, and a feeling of togetherness that I have never come close to feeling before.
“Now you cum,” Sarak growls, gripping me, biting my neck and sending a shockwave of the most incredible pleasure-pain through me. “Cum for Daddy.”
And without even having to try, I feel my cock erupt in the most satisfying pleasure. My legs tremble and were it not for the support of Sarak’s hard wings, I would collapse on the ground right there and then.
“You are mine,” Sarak growls, his voice low and full of meaning. “And I am yours.”
In that moment, I summon the energy to push back for one final feeling of Sarak’s cock on my pleasure button as my dick shoots its final spurts of semen.
“Daddy, I say, my eyes shutting as Sarak eases his dick out of me and brings me in for a tender, warm embrace.
“Enough,” Sarak replies. “We’ll enjoy this moment in silence. We are connected. There are no need for words. Not now, anyway.”
I simply smile and allow myself to drift off to sleep in my Daddy’s arms.
There is danger around every corner, I know that to be true. But with a Dragon Daddy by my side, I know that I am safe from Revaster’s minions.
But whether that is true for Lord Revaster himself remains to be seen…
Dawn creeps over the us like a shy lover, painting the ancient dragon ruins in rose and gold. Drak’Vahl rises around us—crumbling spires, vine-choked arches, the blackened crater at the center where once my ancestors and Sarak’s forged pacts inliving flame. The air smells of moss and old magic, and for the first time since I stole the fire stone, I feel something like peace.
Sarak stands at the edge of the forge-pit, wings half-spread to catch the breeze, the cursed halves of the stone cradled in his palms. I watch the way sunrise gilds his scales, the way his tail curls protectively around my ankle even now. My body is tender from last night, not to mention deliciously used, but my heart—gods, my heart is a riot.
I clear my throat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Sarak turns, eyes molten. “I’m listening, little elf.”
I pull my mother’s journal from my pack, open it to the page I’ve avoided for weeks. The ink is faded, but the words are branded on my soul. “The fire stone isn’t just Revaster’s leash on the land. It’s a blood-curse keyed to my family. My sister’s fading. My parents’ lifeforces are tethered to it. Unless the curse is broken by a union of elf-song and dragon-flame… true union, willing and claimed… it will snap back to them at the next full moon. They’ll die. Slowly. Painfully.”
Silence stretches, broken only by wind through the ruins.
Sarak’s expression doesn’t change, but his tail tightens. “I know.”
I blink. “You… know?”
“I pieced it together nights ago.” He steps closer, voice gentle. “The way the stone drinks deepest when you dream of home. The way your magic flares protectively when you speak their names. I was waiting for you to trust me enough to say it.”
My knees buckle. I sink onto a fallen column, journal fluttering to the stone. “I was afraid if you knew, you’d think I was using you. Like the others.”
His face shutters. “Others?”
I swallow. “Two centuries ago, your clan was betrayed. I know all about it. Elf mages promised alliance, then siphoned dragon blood to fuel their wars. Your mother—” My voice cracks. “Your mother was drained to fuel a spell that saved thousands of elven lives and left dragonkind broken. You were a fledgling. You watched her die.”
Sarak’s wings droop. “You read the forbidden histories.”
“I readeverything.” I stand, close the distance until we’re toe to toe. “But it started long before that. Let me tell you the full truth—the one neither side likes to speak aloud.”
I gesture to the ruins around us. “Drak’Vahl wasn’t just a citadel. It was the cradle of the Pact of Ember and Vine. Ten thousand years ago, when the world was still raw, dragons ruled the skies and elves the deep woods. We were enemies—dragons saw elves as fragile, elves saw dragons as arrogant. Then came the Harsh Winter. Ice wights poured from the north, endless, mindless, hungry. They froze rivers, cracked mountains, devoured entire clans.
“The first to fall were the Silverwing dragons—your great-grandmother’s line. They fought alone, proud, and were slaughtered. The elves of the Verdant Court watched from their crystal spires, debating whether to intervene. My ancestor, Lirael broke protocol. She flew to the Emberfall and begged the Dragon Queen Veyra for alliance.
