Page 39

Raelan

“CLAIM ME,” ALINA WHISPERS, THE words like an incantation spoken just for me. “I want to be yours.”

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t resist.

I’ve spent months— years —trying to restrain myself, relying on the magic chain around my throat to control me around Alina. But it’s gone now, shattered under the weight of my anger, fractured into a hundred pieces. There’s nothing to hold me back.

A storm of thoughts rampages through my head: My mother and sisters. The king. My place in the guard. Every heated moment I’ve had with Alina. The nights I’ve lain awake, touching myself and wishing it were her. My dragon’s anger and grief at not having claimed her yet.

Claim me. Claim me.

I can’t unhear those words. She’s stirred my dragon into a frenzy. It thrashes inside, hungering for her. My body shakes, heat building just beneath my skin.

My eyesight sharpens further as my pupils change. Despite the low light in the room, I can see everything clearly, as though the moon is right overhead, casting everything into brilliant clarity. My fingernails are next. They grow claws, their points so sharp I could pierce right through Alina’s soft brown skin if I’m not careful.

I don’t want to be careful. Yet I must be careful.

“Raelan,” she whispers. Her breath is a kiss upon my face, a trembling thing that makes my cock leap to attention.

“Are you... sure?” I grate out, heat continuing to build as I try to hold my beast at bay. “If I do this, there’s no going back.”

The soft look on Alina’s face shifts. Her blue eyes narrow, lips pressing into a firm line.

In one smooth movement, she slides into my lap, her legs on either side of my hips. The thin nightdress she’s wearing—likely from when she was abducted—rides up, revealing her bare thighs. Slowly, she reaches to unclasp the cloak she’s wearing, and the heavy fabric falls to the floor with a thump, revealing her bare shoulders, the slope of her throat.

“Raelan Ashvale,” she says, voice taking on a hard edge. Her fingers come up to wrap around the back of my neck, cradling my head, holding me captive, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Stop resisting. Fucking claim me.”

My mouth captures hers as soon as the last word leaves her lips.

I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.

I’m hers. Wholly and completely.

No more running. No more fighting.

I submit to her .

Now my hands are on her thighs, her hips, exploring the feel of her body through the satiny texture of the thin nightdress clinging to her skin. When my cock jumps, yearning to be buried inside her, I tighten my grip about her hips and grind her into my lap, feeling her heat through the baggy borrowed trousers I found upstairs. Her response is a breathy moan.

More of my dragon bleeds through. Its hunger twirls through me, and my gums ache as my canines shift into fangs. Alina breaks our kiss and sits back.

I growl, displeased to have been parted from her.

But she doesn’t care. With one hand, she reaches for my mouth, and her thumb glides along my upper lip, pulling it back to reveal my fangs.

“How does it work?” she asks. “The claiming.”

Again, my cock jumps. She must feel it between her legs, for she lets out another small breath, color dancing in her cheeks.

“I’ll bite you,” I say. My voice is gravelly, strained. “And then I’ll fuck you.” I push my hips up into hers, and she gasps. “And then you’ll be mine. And I’ll be yours.”

Her smooth sandy-brown throat bobs as she swallows. A heavy scent curls through the air: desire mixed with fear— her fear. The smell is intoxicating. My dragon writhes.

“Are you sure about this?” I whisper, though my dragon rages at the implication that she might say no.

Alina regards me for a long moment—such a long moment that I think she’s changed her mind. But then she leans forward, lips a hairsbreadth from mine, and whispers, “I’m sure. Make me yours. ”

Her words send me to my feet, my hands wrapping around her ass. Then I’m turning us over, pressing her back into the couch cushion. I loom over her, gazing down at the pink in her cheeks, the soft blue hair tangled in a halo around her head.

She’s so gorgeous, it makes me ache.

I want her. I need her. I must have her.

I peel off my tunic and drop it to the floor beside the couch. Then I stand, and she watches me with wide blue eyes as I pull the trousers from my hips.

My cock stands at attention, hard and throbbing. Her lips part, reminding me of the night in the greenhouse, the feel of her mouth wrapped around my shaft. It makes more scales form across my bare skin.

Then I’m crawling back onto the couch, taking her wrists in one hand and pinning them above her head. Immediately, her breathing accelerates, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her nipples harden, poking through the thin fabric of her nightdress, tempting me to take them into my mouth the way I’ve dreamed of doing.

With my other hand, I drag a single razor-sharp claw through the material of her dress, and it splits without a whisper of resistance, parting like water. Alina gasps as the nightdress falls away, revealing her naked body beneath mine.

Her small breasts tremble as she shakes, her muscles tense and coiled with anticipation. The firelight illuminates the contours of her ribs, her stomach, her hips. And finally, I get to see what stays hidden between her legs—a small mound of sky-blue hair, glistening lips hidden right beneath .

A growl rumbles in my chest. My mouth waters.

“You must stay still,” I bite out.

I shift on the couch so I’m kneeling between her thighs, my hips holding her legs open. The head of my cock throbs, begging to be buried inside her, and my heart thunders so hard in my chest that it makes me drag heavy breaths into my lungs, like I’m sprinting uphill in my full metal armor.

I hold her stare. “Are you ready?”

Alina bites her lower lip. Her eyes and scent betray her fear. But still, she nods. “I’m ready.”

My lips peel back over my fangs. I take her chin with my free hand, turning her face to one side. The firelight dances over her skin. Leaning forward, I trace my nose along her neck, drinking in her scent. It makes my head spin, makes me feel like I’m flying through a storm.

I tighten my other hand around her wrists, pinning her body with mine.

“Don’t move,” I remind her again.

“I won’t,” she whispers.

And then I sink my fangs into her perfect throat.

They slip through her skin, sharp points finding her veins, running hot with Ravenscroft blood. Her breath hitches with a caught breath. I expect her to scream, to cry.

But she doesn’t. Even as my magic mingles with hers, my claiming bite sending heat and power flooding through her, she does little more than whimper and moan, body trembling more fiercely beneath mine.

And my dragon rejoices. It sends more glittering black scales across my arms and chest, my senses heightening further as Alina’s blood absorbs the magic I’m pumping into her.

Then something else happens. Something I never expected, never thought possible.

My beast stops fighting me .

For the first time since boyhood, I feel it breathe a heavy sigh, then settle as if it can finally, after all these years, find the rest it so badly needs.

I was young when my father left, barely old enough to understand the weight of power I carried in my veins, the great and terrible things I’d one day be able to do. He never had a chance to teach me about the bond, left it to me to scour libraries and old scrolls in an effort to understand.

Now I realize I didn’t need those books at all. My instincts were all I needed to rely upon. I know what I need to do. I’ve known all along what I need to do. And the relief at finally having done it, at having claimed the woman who was always meant to be mine, calms me in a way I’ve never experienced.

She is the only thing I truly needed. I’ve needed her all along. To calm me. To control me. To own me.

My beast has found its match. And like a contented cat, it’s happy to lie down at her feet, to cease its writhing and snarling and fighting and instead seek the comfort of her flames.

Because of her, I’m free.

Still holding her wrists in one hand, I reach down with the other, trailing my fingers across her skin and along her body until I find the spot between her legs .

And like last time we touched each other, she’s soaking wet, ready to take me.

But she’s never had a man inside her before, hasn’t ever taken a cock. And I need to be careful with her, gentle.

I peel my fangs from Alina’s throat. Her brow furrows in pain as my canines slip from her skin. Then I drag my tongue across the wounds, lapping the blood from her skin, where the wounds will soon heal over, leaving a fresh pink scar—my claiming mark—on the side of her neck for everyone to see.

Slowly, I release her wrists from my grasp, and she turns her head to regard me. Her eyes are narrowed, lips parted, her knees still resting on either side of my hips.

I see her as if for the first time, through eyes not fogged with my dragon’s needs and demands and relentless, exhausting fighting.

My partner. My mate. Alina Ravenscroft.

She reaches up to touch the wound on her throat, wincing as her fingers glide across it.

Now there’s only one thing left to do.

I’ll bite you. And then I’ll fuck you.

Alina bites her lip as her gaze slides down the length of my body, to my cock positioned right at her entrance. I wait until she meets my eyes. Her hands come up to wrap around my neck, and she spreads her legs wider, draping one over the back of the couch.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, fingertips tickling the nape of my neck. She’s still breathing hard, words just a whisper beneath the sound of the rain and the fire crackling in the hearth. “Please. ”

She doesn’t have to beg. I’ll give her anything she wants.

Being careful with her, I shift my hips forward, and a groan leaves my lips as soon as the head of my cock finds the wetness pooled between her legs. There’s a bit of resistance, and she bites her lip harder, closing her eyes.

With one hand, I reach beneath her hips, lifting them slightly. Immediately, the change of angle makes her pussy open up to me, and I sink slowly inside her.

She gasps.

Fuck. I’ve wanted this for so long.

As I slide out of her and then push myself back in, her fingers tighten around the back of my neck, her body going taut.

“Breathe,” I tell her. “Relax.”

She nods once, blue eyes wide.

Leaning down, I begin pressing kisses along her jaw, her throat, her collarbones. I want this to feel good for her. I want her first time to be something she looks back on with joy, for it to become a memory she holds on to fondly. And as I brush my lips across her skin, she softens and relaxes, and her pussy gets wetter around me.

Like she’s finally ready to truly be fucked.