This was a dragon returning home.
Serenya’s breath caught as Vaelrik’s mouth left hers, his voice rough and low against her jaw. “I can feel your magic… calling me home.”
She trembled, not from fear but from the sheer intensity of his words. Her lumen magic flared beneath her skin, golden light wrapping around him like silk, gentle and insistent. It was as if her magic was guiding him, teaching his shadowfire how to obey without overwhelming her. It wasn’t dangerous. It wasn’t chaotic. It was destined.
For the first time, Serenya felt it clearly. His dragon wasn’t something he needed to train to claim her. His dragon was made for her. For this. He just needed to trust what was already written into his bones. The realization sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.
His lips trailed down her neck, slow and deliberate, and she arched into him, her fingers tangling in his black hair. When his mouth found her breast, she gasped, her body tightening with anticipation. His tongue circled her nipple, teasing, before he sucked gently, and then he bit down with just enough pressure to make her moan. He alternated between her breasts, his large hands roaming her body with a possessiveness that made her head spin.
When his lips finally moved down her abdomen, his hands gripping her hips to keep her still, she was already trembling with need. He paused at the top of her thighs, his storm-gray eyes flicking up to meet hers.
“Are you okay?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.
“More than okay,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He kissed the inside of her thigh, his lips warm and soft, before he finally buried his face between her legs. His tongue was slow at first, exploring her with a gentleness that made her squirm.
But when she gripped his hair and whispered, “More,” he obeyed, his tongue pressing firmer against her, licking and sucking until she was gasping, her hips bucking against his mouth.
“Vaelrik,” she moaned, her voice breaking as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her.
She didn’t care if anyone heard her, didn’t care if the entire Citadel knew what was happening. Right now, it was just him and her, and the way he was making her feel. His hands grippedher hips firmly, holding her in place as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.
When her orgasm finally crashed over her, her body convulsing and her back arching off the bed, her magic flared bright around them. He didn’t stop though, his tongue relentless, drawing out her pleasure until she was shaking uncontrollably.
When he finally pulled away, she collapsed back onto the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He crawled up her body, his chest brushing against hers.
“You’re mine,” he growled against her mouth, his voice raw and possessive.
Her heart was still racing, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but she felt something else too—something deeper and more profound. This wasn’t just desire. This was their destiny.
He kissed her again, his hands exploring her body and his touch igniting her all over again. Her magic surged to meet his curse, steadying him and binding them together in a way that felt ancient and inevitable.
“Vaelrik,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Neither have I,” he murmured, his voice rough with need.
Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him closer, their kiss deepening, filled with promise, with passion, with a connection that neither of them could deny.
Serenya’s breath hitched as Vaelrik pulled back from their kiss, his storm-gray eyes burning with primal hunger. The way he looked at her—like she was both salvation and ruin, like he wanted to devour her whole—sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs. His body trembled against hers, every corded muscle taut with restraint.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, the words scraping raw from his throat. His shadowfire pulsed beneath his skin. “But I want to claim you now.”
Her fingers traced the sharp angles of his jaw, feeling the tension there. She could sense his dragon prowling just beneath the surface, all possessive instinct and ancient magic. The realization should have terrified her—this was the Shadow Scourge, the Council’s most lethal weapon—but instead, a reckless thrill shot through her veins.
“You won’t hurt me.” She pressed her forehead to his, their breaths mingling. “Your dragon knows me. Trust him. Trust yourself. Trust us.”
The moment the words left her lips, she felt it—the seismic shift through their bond. His pupils dilated, the black swallowing the gray entirely as understanding crashed through him. His dragon recognized her in ways neither of them could articulate, in ways that transcended curses and wars and centuries of bloodshed.
A ragged sound tore from his chest as he lowered his mouth to hers again, this kiss more desperate than the last. His hands—those lethal weapons that had razed cities—cradled her face with devastating tenderness. When she spread her thighs in silent invitation, his entire body shuddered.
He positioned himself at her entrance. The first slow push stole her breath—his thickness stretching her in the most exquisite way. Her lumen sigils flared gold along her arms, reacting instinctively to the shadowfire writhing beneath his skin.
“Serenya—” Her name was half prayer, half promise as he sank deeper. “You feel like everything.”
She arched beneath him, her nails scoring down his back as he filled her completely. The sensation was overwhelming—not just the physical joining, but the way their magic intertwined.
“Please, move,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist.
