Page 11 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)
I slipped through the shadows of the academy grounds, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Two weeks of nightly excursions had taught me the patrol patterns of the night guards—where they walked, when they changed shifts, which ones were vigilant and which ones dozed at their posts.
Tonight, like every night since discovering Sirrax's true nature, I moved with the stealth of a thief stealing away to the abandoned stables at the far edge of the property.
The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, casting just enough light to illuminate my path without betraying my presence. I'd dressed simply—a dark tunic and breeches that wouldn't catch on branches or reflect torchlight. My hair was bound tightly, nothing to flutter in the breeze.
As I approached the crumbling structure, anticipation quickened my pulse. I'd left Sirrax here earlier, removing his collar in the privacy of the abandoned building. By now, he would have transformed, would be waiting for me in his true form.
I slipped through the gap in the rotting wooden door, the familiar scent of hay and dust greeting me. "Sirrax?" I whispered into the darkness.
Movement rustled in the far corner, and then he emerged from the shadows, moonlight streaming through the broken roof to illuminate his midnight skin. My breath caught at the sight of him—tall and powerfully built, white hair falling past his shoulders, golden eyes glowing in the darkness.
"Mate," he rumbled, the word sending a shiver down my spine. He crossed the space between us in three long strides, sweeping me into his arms with effortless strength.
I melted against him, the heat of his body seeping through my clothes. His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly turned hungry, demanding.
"Missed you," he growled against my lips. "All day, watching, waiting."
His hands made quick work of my clothing, tearing at fabric with impatient fingers until I stood naked before him. I should have been cold in the night air, but his heat enveloped me, banishing any chill.
"Every day gets harder," I admitted as his lips trailed fire down my neck. "Watching the other dragons, knowing what they are, what's being done to them."
His hands stilled momentarily, his golden eyes meeting mine. "Soon," he promised. "Free them soon."
Then his mouth was on my breast, and coherent thought fled as pleasure coursed through me. I tangled my fingers in his white hair, holding him against me as his tongue circled my nipple, sending jolts of sensation straight to my core.
We'd done this every night for two weeks, yet the hunger between us showed no signs of abating. If anything, it grew stronger with each encounter, as though the bond connecting us deepened with every touch, every shared breath.
He lowered me onto the blankets I'd smuggled out here days ago, spreading me beneath him with reverent hands. When his fingers found me slick and ready, a smile of satisfaction curved his lips.
"Always ready for mate," he murmured, pressing two fingers inside me, making me gasp at the sudden intrusion.
"Only you," I breathed, though the words weren't entirely true.
My heart still belonged to others as well—to Marcus with his quiet strength, to Tarshi with his fierce devotion, even to Septimus with his complicated passion.
But with Sirrax, there was something different, something primal that existed beyond conscious choice.
As if sensing my thoughts, he growled low in his throat, his fingers curling inside me to find that spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. "Mine," he insisted. "My mate."
I couldn't argue—not with his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue delving into my core with devastating precision.
My back arched off the blankets, a cry escaping me before I could stifle it.
His large hands gripped my thighs, holding me open for his assault as his tongue worked magic, circling and flicking until I was writhing beneath him.
"Please," I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair. "I need you inside me."
He raised his head, golden eyes glowing with hunger. "Say it," he demanded, his voice rough. "Say who you belong to."
"You," I whispered, the word torn from me by need rather than conviction. "I'm yours, Sirrax."
Satisfaction rumbled through him as he moved up my body, positioning himself between my thighs. The head of his cock pressed against my entrance, teasing, not quite giving me what I needed.
"Mine," he growled one final time before pushing forward, stretching me in that familiar burn that bordered on pain before melting into exquisite pleasure.
I gasped as he filled me completely, my body adjusting to his size as it always did.
The strange ridges along his shaft created friction that sent waves of sensation through me with each thrust. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as he established a rhythm that had me clawing at his shoulders.
"Perfect," he murmured, his pace increasing. "Made for this. For me."
I couldn't deny it—my body responded to him with an intensity that defied explanation, as though it recognized him on some fundamental level beyond conscious thought. I shattered, my release crashing through me in waves that left me gasping his name.
He followed moments later, his body tensing above mine as he filled me with his seed, marking me in the most primal way possible. For several heartbeats, we remained joined, panting, his forehead resting against mine as our breathing steadied.
Eventually, he rolled to my side, pulling me against his chest. His heat surrounded me like a living blanket, warmer than any fire. "When?" he asked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my back.
I didn't need him to elaborate. We'd had this conversation before. "I don't know," I admitted, the familiar weight of responsibility settling over me once more. "I can't just free all the dragons at once. The chaos would be unimaginable. People would die."
"People dying now," he rumbled. "Slowly. Inside."
The truth of his words struck me to the core. Each day I watched the other dragons in training—massive, beautiful creatures bound by iron collars that hid their true nature. I saw now what I'd missed before—the intelligence in their eyes, the subtle signs of their suffering. And I did nothing.
"The mission comes first," I reminded him, though the words tasted bitter. "The Emperor has to pay for what he's done—to my family, to yours, to everyone. Once he's gone, we can change things. Free all of you."
Sirrax's chest rumbled with a sound too complex to be simple agreement or disagreement. "Understand. Don't like."
I pressed a kiss to his chest, over his heart. "I don't like it either. But I need more time, need to understand how the collars work, how to release them without causing panic."
He nodded, his chin brushing the top of my head. "Trust mate."
We lay in silence for a while, our bodies cooling in the night air. Soon I would need to return to my quarters, to wash away his scent before dawn training. But for now, I allowed myself this moment of peace, of connection, before the complications of the day reasserted themselves.
"Something else bothers mate," Sirrax observed, his deep voice rumbling through his chest beneath my ear.
I sighed. He knew me too well already, could sense my moods through our strange bond. "It's not just the dragons," I admitted. "It's everything. Septimus and Tarshi have been acting strange lately. I can't put my finger on it, but something's different between them."
"Fighting more? Less?"
"Different," I said, searching for the right words. "They still argue, still glare at each other, but it feels... performative somehow. And sometimes I catch them watching each other when they think no one's looking."
Sirrax made a noncommittal sound, his hand continuing its gentle exploration of my back.
"And then there's Jalend," I continued, the memory of our latest encounter warming my cheeks. "He's been helping me with the theoretical aspects of dragon-riding. I think he suspects something—not about you specifically, but that I'm hiding something."
"Dangerous?" Sirrax's body tensed slightly beneath me.
"I don't think so. He's... different from the other nobles. He questions things. Thinks for himself."
"Trust?"
I hesitated. "I don't know yet. But I like him. That's part of the problem."
Another rumble, this one laced with possessive displeasure. I smiled despite myself, pressing a soothing kiss to his chest.
"Don't worry. I'm not planning on adding another complication to my life.
" Even as I said the words, I knew they weren't entirely honest. There was something about Jalend that drew me—his quiet intelligence, the unexpected kindness beneath his reserved exterior, the way he looked at me as though he truly saw me.
Sirrax's arms tightened around me, as if he could physically prevent me from developing feelings for anyone else. "Time," he reminded me. "Must go."
I sighed, reluctantly pulling away from his warmth. "I know. Training starts at dawn."
He watched as I gathered my scattered clothing, his golden eyes tracking my movements with predatory attention. "Tomorrow?" he asked as I dressed.
"Yes," I promised. "Like always."
He nodded, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. The moonlight played across his midnight skin, highlighting the powerful muscles of his chest and arms. I couldn't resist going to him for one more kiss, breathing in his scent of smoke and starlight.
"Be careful," I whispered against his lips.
His smile was fierce, predatory. "Always careful. Always watching."
I slipped back into the academy just as the eastern sky began to lighten, making it to my quarters without being seen. After a quick wash to remove Sirrax's scent from my skin, I changed into my training clothes and headed to the practice fields, where the day's drills would soon begin.