Page 74 of Progeny of the Cursed Egg (Dragonis Academy, Year 3)
“I need to mark you, mate,” Thauglor rumbles as he kisses my jaw, his voice vibrating through me like distant thunder. His lips are surprisingly soft against my skin. A gentle contrast to the power I can feel coiled within him, ready to strike.
I roll my head to the side, baring the left side of my throat to him, the skin there tingling in anticipation.
My pulse quickens, fluttering visibly beneath the surface.
My eyes lock on Klauth as I wait for Thauglor to mark me, seeking reassurance from my established mate.
The air between us feels charged, heavy with unspoken promises.
“You bear many bites, mate,” Thauglor rumbles as he kisses my throat where he intends to bite me, his breath hot against my skin. His finger traces the scars left by my other mates, each touch sending a shiver down my spine.
“Our mate has built herself a powerful nest. Offensively and defensively, it’s extremely well thought out,” Klauth says as he moves closer, his footsteps barely audible on the soft earth.
The familiar scent of him—smoke and cinnamon—mingles with Thauglor’s, creating a heady mixture that makes my head swim.
Klauth’s hand threads up and into my hair until he can grab one of my horns.
The sensitive base sends a jolt of pleasure through my body at his touch.
A deep purr escapes my lips as I stare into his crimson-flecked amber eyes, the gold, and red dancing like flames in the fading light.
“I can taste her power for one so young. We are lucky,” Thauglor murmurs, his voice laced with reverence and hunger.
Without further warning, he sinks his teeth into my throat, and I feel his strength bleeding into me, hot and electric.
My body arches in his arms as his teeth dig into my flesh, the sharp pain giving way to waves of pleasure that radiate outward from the point of contact.
Every moment he holds onto me, the more his power flows into me, filling every space within me.
It feels as if every synapse is firing faster than a lightning strike, my skin buzzing with energy.
When he releases me, I’m breathless, trying to find my footing.
My head swims from the feeling of being remade, colors more vibrant, sounds sharper, scents richer than before.
“You need to bite me as well, mate,” Thauglor says, his voice low, oozing of sex and bad decisions.
The timbre of it slides over my skin like dark silk, a tangible caress.
If there was a type that my mother would have warned me to steer clear of, it definitely would be Thauglor.
His blue eyes have darkened to the color of a storm-tossed ocean, pupils dilated with desire.
“I do...” I sound breathy, almost attention-starved, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears.
His fingers thread through my hair, replacing Klauth’s grip on me, the slight tug sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.
He directs me to the left side of his throat, the bronze skin there smooth and unmarked, pulsing with the rhythm of his heart.
I bite him without hesitation, my teeth breaking through his skin with a satisfying give.
My heart thunders in my chest, the sound filling my ears as his ichor fills my mouth, bursting on my tongue with the mixed flavor of iron and copper, with undertones of something ancient and powerful.
I swallow down every gulp until every cell in my body feels supercharged, my limbs tingling with newfound strength.
Carefully, I withdraw my teeth and lick the wound clean.
The taste of him lingering on my tongue before pulling away.
A thin string of saliva and blood connects us briefly before breaking, a crimson testament to our new bond .
Before he can say anything, I dart off and shift seamlessly into my dragon form, bones cracking and reforming, skin stretching and hardening into scales with a sensation like thousands of tiny needles pricking from within.
My emerald and silver scales reflect the waning light of the setting sun.
The wind rushes past as I launch myself into the air, each powerful beat of my wings carrying me higher, closer to home.
The loud sound of massive ancient wings beating behind me fills the air, the rhythmic whoosh creating currents I can feel buffeting my tail.
I glance over my shoulder and see Klauth and Thauglor flying side by side, their massive forms blocking out portions of the sky.
Klauth’s scales gleam like fresh-spilled blood in the sunset, while Thauglor’s absorb the light, seeming to create a void in the sky.
These two are going to be trouble, I just know it.
The way they move in tandem, anticipating each other’s movements without communication, speaks of their long history.
They’ve fought together, shared a border between their territories.
They have a history that I bet the books got wrong, just like everything else they warned us about.
Soon enough, my two great wyrm mates flank me, their wingspans dwarfing mine, creating protective shadows on either side.
Klauth with his scales the color of fresh-spilled blood, radiating heat like a forge.
Thauglor, whose scales could make the blackest night jealous, carrying the scent of storms and ancient forests.
The air between us vibrates with power, three apex predators soaring through the darkening sky.
I have two war machines in my nest, and I have never felt safer.
The thought brings a rumble of satisfaction from deep within my chest, echoing across the open air as we fly toward home.
The last rays of sunlight catching on our scales in a final blaze of glory before night claims the sky.