Page 6 of Magic Undaunted

Three

STRYKER

Stryker leaned against the cold stone wall of his quarters, staring out at the dim glow of Celestia’s twilight horizon. Normally, the sight of the fae realm’s eternal dusk calmed him, its gentle light reminding him of the steady purpose he had served for centuries. But tonight, all he could see was darkness creeping along the edges, mirroring the confusion that churned inside him.

The last time he had seen Elyria, she had walked away. But not before they had torn into each other, their words sharp and cutting—leaving wounds deeper than any battle ever had. What was the old saying? An enemy could never wound you as deeply as a friend… or lover.

He closed his eyes and reached out to her but found nothing but emptiness. The memory of their first time together washed over him with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. Just for a moment, he allowed himself to remember.

As their lips molded together, a surge of electricity shot through his veins. The taste of her, a subtle mix of sweetness and defiance, ignited a wildfire within him. The man in him groaned; the griffon growled. He deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of possessiveness and longing into it.

Elyria's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into tight fists. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the intensity of their connection. With each passing second, the doubts and insecurities that must be clouding her mind seemed to be beginning to dissipate.

Pulling away, Stryker breathed heavily, his forehead resting against hers. Their breaths mingled in the heated space between them. "You feel it too, don't you? The connection." His voice was husky with desire, tinged with the unspoken promise of pleasure that lay ahead.

She nodded, her eyes glazed over with raw hunger. "I don't know what it is, but I don’t think I like it," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A flicker of frustration washed over him as he listened to her half-hearted protests. The mating bond demanded a surrender—a surrender that Elyria seemed reluctant to give. "This isn’t something either of us can fight.”

Elyria chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty damn sure I can fight anything.”

“No, you are mine.” He felt her stiffen. “And I am yours,” he added, trying to reassure her. "There is no other reason for the way we're feeling right now."

Elyria inhaled sharply, her eyes drifting to his lips. Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, Stryker pulled her against his body, slamming her lips against his. This time their kiss was different—it was deep, sensual, and intense. With a wave of her hand, Elyria rendered them both naked. He could see where that might come in handy.

Their bodies crashed together in a frenzy of need, a primal hunger that fueled the flames that licked at their skin, igniting a fire somewhere deep inside that threatened to consume everything in its path.

As their lips molded and melted against one another, a symphony of moans and sighs filled the air. There was an urgency in their movements, driven by a yearning so powerful it eclipsed all rational thought. Eager hands roamed each other’s body, exploring every inch of exposed flesh, igniting sparks that sent shivers down their spines.

His fingers fisted her hair, tugging gently as he claimed her mouth with an unmatched fervor. The taste of her lips, soft and pliant, fueled his desire and left him hungry for more. Elyria reciprocated in kind, her nails digging into his back as she pulled him closer.

They stumbled backward, trying to find balance amidst the chaos. There was nothing but bare skin and the sweet scent of lust hanging heavy in the air.

“I want this,” she murmured, as much to herself as to him. “I want you.”

“If the High Council finds out…”

“What the High Council doesn’t know won’t hurt them, and if they find out, fuck ‘em.”

With those words, any remnants of doubt or hesitation vanished into thin air. Stryker growled with a primitive urgency as he thrust up into her, groaning as her wet heat enveloped his hard length. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of ecstasy coursing through his veins. They were no longer two separate entities; they had been joined as one.

Elyria’s long legs intertwined with his, pulling him deeper, urging him to explore her uncharted territory. Stryker obliged, setting a pounding rhythm that she eagerly matched. Each plunge into her pushed them both closer and closer to the edge where bliss and oblivion merged. Their bodies moved with an innate harmony that neither had ever experienced with another. They were lost in a world of feeling and sensation where time ceased to exist, and nothing else mattered.

She raked his back with her nails as her body tensed, and the temperature in the room reached an almost unbearable degree. The intoxicating scent of sex filled the air. Her pussy clamped down, making each thrust more difficult, but he relished the challenge.

Stryker growled again, her words filling him with a primal lust as he began to lose control, succumbing to the intoxicating rhythm of their bodies. Gripping her hips tighter, his fingers dug into her flesh as he continued to drive into her harder and deeper. With every stroke, he could sense her unraveling beneath him. Her body shook, her breathing came out as moans, and he knew he had pushed her to the precipice of ecstasy again.

Her inner walls tightened around his cock, drawing him even deeper, begging for release. When Stryker roared her name, the explosive orgasm swept over both of them with an intense wave of pleasure. Releasing a torrential flood of his cum deep inside her, he continued to fuck her until they were both done.

Their passion for one another had been all consuming. If the Council had noticed, they pretended not to. But there were other memories—many of them not nearly as sweet, but every bit as intense. Those memories flashed all around him, slashing like a blade.

The last one had been on the edge of the Twilight Forest, just beyond the High Council’s reach. Elyria had stood there, her silver-pink hair catching the last fading light of the day, her wings gleaming faintly in the gloom. She had looked every bit the warrior he had once loved—strong, proud, defiant. But she wasn’t the same.

Not after what had happened. He remembered the way the anger had coiled inside him like a serpent as he confronted her.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” he had said, the words harsh and cold even as they left his mouth.

Elyria’s eyes had flashed with something raw, a pain that cut through the fire in her gaze. “I didn’t choose this, Stryker. You know that.”

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