Page 44 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

Dark eyes met mine. Gold fire reflected in them. A connection deeper than skin. I pushed forward. Slow. Breaching her entrance. Fuck, she was tight. Slick heat gripped my cock. Inch by slow inch, I filled her. Her breath came in short, sharp pants. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, right where scales met softer skin.

When I was buried deep inside, I stopped. Fought the urge to slam into her. Claim her hard. Her inner muscles fluttered around me. Tightening. Adjusting. I dropped my forehead to hers. Breathed her in. Let her scent fill me, calm the fire threatening to burn me up.

"Move," she finally whispered. It was barely audible. "Please, Khorlar. Move."

I obeyed. Pulled back almost all the way, then sank deep again. The drag. The glide. The friction. A groan ripped from my chest. Her answering moan, her legs locking around my waist, pulling me deeper—nothing had ever felt like this.

We found a rhythm. Old as time, but new. Her hands explored my back, my sides. Found places that sent shocks straight to my cock. My tail coiled around her thigh, pulsing with my thrusts. Another connection. Another claim.

"Yes," she gasped, head thrown back. Throat exposed. "Right there."

I changed my angle. Pushed deeper. Hit a spot that made her eyes fly wide, her breath catch. Seeing her like that—flushed, desperate, the harness framing her panting chest—broke the last of my restraint. My pace quickened. Each thrust pounding into her. A claim.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Her climax hit her hard. Her body arched off the silks, muscles clamping down on my cock in tight pulses. Trying to pull me over the edge with her. She cried out, raw and wild. Her nails dug into my scales.

"Khorlar," she gasped, eyes wide, unfocused. "God, Khorlar …"

My name on her lips. Broken. Fucking reverent. It shattered everything. My release tore through me like lava. Burning hot. I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in as I pumped my seed deep inside her. Marking her. Filling her.

We collapsed. Tangled in damp sheets. Sweat. Sex. My tail draped over her leg. Protective. I didn't want to let go. Our breathing slowed. Hearts stopped hammering.

In the quiet, I pulled her closer. One wing half-covered her. She didn't fight it. Her smaller body fit against mine. It was like she was made for it. The thought sent a fresh wave of possession through me. And something else. Tender. An ache under my ribs.

"I never expected this," I admitted. My voice was rough. Thick with feeling. "You. What you are to me."

She tilted her head. Looked at me with those eyes that saw too damn much. "And what's that?"

I traced her cheek. Her soft skin. The strength underneath. "Everything," I answered. It was simple. True. "Honor. Purpose. Home."

Something flickered in her eyes—fear, maybe wonder—gone too fast. Then her face softened. Just a little. She leaned up, pressed her lips to the scales over my heart.

"Whatever this is … it scares me how much I need it."

Her honesty hit me harder than any blade. I tightened my hold. Her heartbeat, steady against my chest. No battle won ever felt like this. This wasn't surrender. It was … a meeting. Equals.

"Sleep,vrakasha," I rumbled, stroking her short hair.

She made a soft sound. Was it protest? Agreement? But her body relaxed against mine. In the dim glow of the heat crystals, her safe in my arms, I finally admitted the truth. The one burning me up since I first smelled her.

She was mine. I was hers. And I'd tear apart anyone—Council, Temple, Ignarath himself—who tried to touch what we were building.

As she drifted off, her breathing evening out, one last truth settled deep in my bones. It was as hard as stone.

I would burn the world to ash before I let her go.

15

HAWK

Leather bit into my shoulders.It wasn't pain, just pressure—a constant, chafing reminder of the harness. A reminder of him.

I’d slept in the damned thing.

My fingers traced the tight, intricate stitching—his work—as I walked. Hours spent on it. For me. The implications sent a dizzying warmth flooding my veins, unwelcome and undeniable.

"You’re a fool," I muttered, forcing my boots faster over the stone. Ahead, heat crystals embedded in the rock ceiling pulsed, throwing waves of dull orange light that painted my shadow long and skeletal on the wall. It rippled, distorted as I moved. It was unrecognizable.

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