Page 21 of Scorched by Fate (Drakarn Mates #3)

TWENTY-ONE

VYNE

High canyon walls concealed our resting place from above, but the narrow space would trap us if anyone tracked us on foot. The air was too still, too oppressive. A warning.

Khorlar settled Reika against a concave fold near the canyon’s edge, the shadows of burnt stone forming an uncertain cradle around her. She slept fitfully, the day’s strain having gutted what little strength remained. Khorlar sat sentinel beside her, his massive frame an immovable barrier.

It was a good position—secure enough to rest, with clear visibility for watching the canyon’s labyrinthine offshoots. The kind of place that would have let me relax, once—before all of this.

Before her.

Selene moved ahead, careful and sure on the uneven ground. The strap of her pack dug into her shoulder, and her jaw ticked with tension. She wouldn’t complain. Not aloud. But I saw.

She set the bag down but stared at it for a long moment, like she was worried it might disappear. After how far we'd come to get it, I could understand.

I approached her, my hands itching to touch, but I could feel Khorlar’s watchful eye. We needed privacy, needed a moment alone. “The canyon's clear for now. Let's find a place to bed down. Khorlar has the girl and first watch.”

Selene eyed me, more intuitive than I was prepared for. She studied me like she was calculating angles, risks, vulnerabilities—not from our enemies. Mine.

“Is something wrong with right here?” she asked.

I took the opening. “My side is bothering me.” The admission was clunky, but her focus snapped immediately to me.

Healer's instincts—merciful and maddening.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

I blew out a breath and gestured toward a side passage just ahead. The fissure was painted in an uneven glow by some mysterious reflection of the suns. “It’s nothing serious.”

Selene didn’t respond. Words weren’t necessary; her expression had already shifted to a mask of calm authority.

She followed me down the offshoot, small enough to force us to flatten against the warm stone to fit through. She didn’t complain, her lips a tight line as the space opened ahead of us—a shallow alcove carved into the volcanic rock, hidden well beneath the canyon’s natural shadows. Safe enough. For now.

And private.

I had to hide my grin.

“Alright,” she said, dropping her pack with a muffled clink as tension cracked loose from her shoulders. She turned toward me. “Sit.”

I arched a brow.

She bristled. “I mean it, Vyne. Let me see.”

Shaking my head, I lowered myself onto a curved outcropping of stone and let my wings flare for balance. The warmth of the rock pressed into me, soothing muscles I wouldn’t admit were aching. Her eyes flicked toward the way I held my arm against my ribs, how my wing shifted stiffly.

“Where does it hurt?” she demanded.

I flexed my arm, tilting to expose the stretch near my armpit—the shallow line of torn scales where the edge of an Ignarath talon had glanced me. The graze wasn’t deep, barely more than a persistent sting and a sticky patch of dried blood. A minor wound. Negligible.

For Selene? It may as well have been catastrophic.

She sucked in a harsh breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t relevant,” I murmured, watching her.

“You’re bleeding,” she said flatly, daring me to argue.

“Not badly.”

She huffed, pulling a small pouch from her belt. “Not the point.”

The unexpected sting of her fingers brushing near the wound rattled something in me, and not from pain. She was so careful it hurt—like she assumed I’d break apart under her touch.

“It’s not bad,” I said at the growing line of panic in her frown. “Stop worrying.”

Her lips thinned into a line as she continued, a damp cloth already pulling the stickiness of blood away from the torn scales. “Worrying’s part of the job,” she shot back, voice tight. “Especially when wounded warriors decide they’re too tough to tell anyone about their injuries.”

I almost laughed. Survival instincts choked it back.

When she finally pulled a roll of bandages from her kit, I caught her wrist lightly, fingers grazing the soft edges of her pulse. She froze, her gaze snapping to me.

“Selene.” My voice dropped low, her name heavier this time. “It’s nothing.”

Her eyes held mine longer than they should have. The air thinned. For a brief flicker of time, the weight of the rock around us didn’t press quite so hard. There was only her—brilliant, stubborn, impossible.

And, gods help me, mine.

But I let go, forcing the tips of my claws to unhook one by one. She kept watching me for a moment longer before dropping her gaze, her hands moving mechanically now as she wrapped the bandage. The heat of her fingers barely touched me. It wasn’t enough.

“Done,” she said, brushing residual dust from her palms and stepping back. “You should have told me sooner. What if you’d weakened during?—”

“What? The flight?” I interrupted. “I would never drop you.”

“You don't know that.” Her tone was frustrated, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. This wasn't only a medic's training resonating beneath her skin. It was more.

I couldn’t resist pushing. Couldn’t resist tugging at the unspoken.

“Why does it bother you, Zhyvarin ?” I asked.

Her breath hitched. But she didn’t answer.

For all her control, all her intellect, she faltered. And the warmth it lit through me melted the last of my restraint.

My hands slid to her hips, easing her backward until her back met the rock wall. The pale glow of light painted shadows across her cheek, catching the edges of her features. For a moment, she still radiated tension—that stubborn refusal to surrender.

So I didn’t give her the chance.

My mouth captured hers, and there was nothing gentle about it. This was possession, pure and unfiltered. A claiming I’d held back from for too long, and now, with her warm and alive in my arms, I could hold back no more. Her lips parted on a startled gasp, her hands gripping my shoulders, but she wasn't pushing me away.

I let the growl rumble deep in my chest, my wings flaring against the narrow confines before folding tightly back. Her heart beat against my ribs, insistent and wild, as I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, my tongue flicking past her lips.

Her taste wasn’t just sweetness. No, it was spice and fire—a challenge that dared my control as much as it unraveled it. My claws flexed against her hips, careful not to pierce but tracing every soft curve beneath her clothes like map lines.

The kiss turned hungrier. My tail coiled around her ankle, the underside brushing bare flesh as it slid upward. She moaned into my mouth, low and throaty, sending lightning ripping through my control.

Restraint? Never heard of it.

Her fingers clutched the raised grooves of my scales. When her nails caught against the sensitive edges of my neck, I groaned. She wasn’t shy. Not here. Not with me.

This was a firestorm.

“Selene,” I said. My forehead rested against hers, sweat and heat mingling. My claws framed her shoulders, bracketing her wrists lightly against the wall. Gods, I didn’t want her steady.

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, swollen and glistening, and I had the urge to reclaim it, to lick and nip and taste until she dissolved entirely.

“Fuck,” her voice was raw, eyes shining with something fiery and unreadable. “This is insane. We can't.”

I let the smallest smile tug the edges of my mouth. “Then tell me to stop.”

A laugh—breathless, intense—tumbled from her lips, and I pressed closer, our bodies aligning. Skin heated through fabric until there was no separation, and the delicious friction of her body against mine sent sparks rolling through every nerve.

"Say it," I demanded.

"Don't stop."

Her head tilted back against the stone, exposing her throat, the curve of it begging for a bite I wasn’t sure she was ready for. My mouth found her jaw instead, tongue tracing the subtle line down to the hollow between her collarbones. Her breath hitched, the pulse beneath my lips pounding like drums.

“Vyne … I—” Her words broke off into a whimper as my tail tightened, flexing with precision against the skin of her calf. The sound hit like fuel on an open flame. There was no going back now.

“Tell me to stop,” I murmured against her skin, my voice ragged. “And I will.”

Her response came in the form of her hands gripping the edges of my jaw and pulling me back to her lips with a fervent intensity. I devoured her, backing her tighter against the warm, uneven wall as my hands slid up, tracing along the curves of her waist and slipping under fabric until her skin sang against mine.

My talons carefully pulled at the offending layers of clothing, easing the fabric off. Her hands gripped my shoulders tighter, pulling herself closer as the last remnants of cloth fluttered to the ground.

“Selene,” her name was a plea and worship as my mouth dropped to the exposed skin at her collarbone and down to the swell of her breast. My hands explored the softness of her curves, every ridge and hollow memorized.

I didn’t give her time to retreat, to think, to argue. I didn’t want her doubts. I wanted her surrender. Her trust. Her everything.

Falling to my knees was an act of reverence. And I wasn’t done. Not even close.

As I kissed down her stomach, her response echoed louder in the alcove.

And gods, I wanted to hear more.

The moment my lips brushed the soft heat between her thighs, her fingers twisted into my hair. Not a protest—a demand. A claiming. Her hips arched off the wall, subtle at first, then a desperate, unashamed offering, every choked-back sound vibrating through the marrow of my bones, a siren's call I couldn't resist.

Her scent was heady and salt-edged, the familiar tang of her arousal undercut by something darker, something deep that made my fangs ache. My tongue lashed upward in one long, slow, punishing swipe.

"Fuck—Vyne!" Her thighs trembled against the sides of my head, the smooth human skin in contrast with my rough scales, as I pinned her tighter to the stone. The wet slap of my tongue plunging into her, delving deep, echoed off the canyon walls, her taste, her unique essence, bursting across my senses—burnt caramel and reckless, unyielding humanity, a combination so intoxicating it threatened to shatter my control.

She tasted like war, like survival, like Volcaryth itself—fire and resilience intertwined.

Her nails scored the sensitive ridges between my shoulder blades, a painful pleasure, drawing a sound that was more beast than Drakarn. My tail, acting on its own instinct, moved up her calf with slow, sure pressure until the tip teased the soaked, sensitive apex of her thighs.

She shattered instantly.

A silent scream ripped through her, a tremor that shook her entire frame, every muscle locking as her thighs vise-gripped my skull, holding me captive. I drank her down greedily, lapping, sucking, savoring every shudder, every drop of her essence. Her scent, intensified by her release, filled the air.

"Again," I said against her quivering, exquisitely sensitive flesh, the word a rough demand, a promise, a prayer.

My tongue speared deeper, seeking out every sensitive fold, every hidden pleasure point, until she responded, a broken, beautiful sound. Her second climax came faster, harder, severe—a wounded animal sound breaking past her clenched teeth, a testament to the raw power of her pleasure.

When her knees buckled, threatening to send her collapsing, I rose in one fluid motion, pushing down my pants without ceremony. I would have ripped them to shreds with my talons if I had another pair to spare on this journey.

The scaled base of my cock glistened under the glow of the canyon, thick, dark veins pulsing with urgent need beneath the stretched, sensitive skin as the tapered tip flexed hungrily. That traitorous, wonderfully sensitive fleshy rim peeled back, revealing the flushed, engorged slit beneath—already oozing the thick, musky fluid that would brand her; a silent, invisible claim.

Her eyes darkened, pupils swallowing irises whole, leaving only pools of desire. A deep hunger mirrored my own.

"I need you," she breathed, the words a ragged plea, a challenge, an invitation.

The last thread of restraint snapped.

I hauled her legs around my hips, her soft human skin sliding against my scaled thighs, the contrast a delicious torment, my tip nudging her entrance with possessive, sure pressure. She was still spasming from her last peak, her body clenching around nothing—needy, desperate, exquisitely sensitive. The sight, the feel of her pulsing heat, nearly undid me, threatening to send me spiraling over the edge before I'd even fully claimed her.

"Watch," I commanded, my voice a low rumble, my thumb hooking her chin, forcing her gaze downward. "Watch what I do to you, Zhyvarin ."

Her wrecked sound vibrated through every scale, every nerve ending. That flared, sensitive rim of my cock stretched her obscenely, the overstimulated nerves making her scramble for purchase against my shoulders, her fingers digging in. Inch by brutal, agonizing inch, I seated myself, pushing, stretching, filling her, until the scaled base of my shaft kissed her swollen flesh.

Her eyelids fluttered, a soft sound escaping her lips. "So … fucking … big?—"

"You take it. All of it. You're mine, Zhyvarin . Made for this. Made for me."

Her answering grin was pure rebellion, a flash of the fierce, resilient spirit that had drawn me to her. She rolled her hips, taking me deeper, accepting me fully.

The world went red with untamed need.

I pistoned into her without mercy, each powerful snap of my hips slamming her into the volcanic rock. That serpentine ridge along my cock's underside stroked against her internal walls with every slow, sure withdrawal.

" Zhyvarin ," I said, my breath hot against her sweat-slick throat, the word a prayer. "Mine. Mine. Always mine."

Her teeth sank into my shoulder as her climax took her. And I responded, a deep sound of release, slamming home one final, earth-shattering time. My release surged into her, claiming her from the inside out.

We hung there, suspended—her trembling legs locked around my waist, my hands embedded in the stone above her head, holding her, claiming her, possessing her. The musky, potent scent of our joining, of our mingled scents, clung to the air.

Somewhere beyond our ragged, uneven breaths, I heard Khorlar make a sound—a warning, a reminder of the world outside, of the dangers that still lurked.

Reality crashed back, unwelcome, intrusive.

But for now, none of it mattered.

My forehead pressed to hers. Selene’s grip on my shoulders loosened, her fingers tracing lazy, aimless patterns across my scales, each touch a spark against my cooling skin.

I shifted, easing my weight, but not breaking the connection. Not yet. My tail unwound from her, the tip lingering to brush a slow, sure path down her spine, a silent promise. Her answering shiver was involuntary.

“You …” she began, her voice hoarse, uneven, the word trailing off as her eyes fluttered closed.

Exhaustion finally claimed her, a heavy weight settling over her features, softening the hard edges of her spirit. Watching her sleep, vulnerable and utterly spent in my arms, something shifted. The possessive fire still burned, but it was tempered, edged with a tenderness I hadn’t known I was capable of.

"You're my mate, Zhyvarin ," I whispered.

My confession was lost to the stillness, unheard by the one person who needed to hear it. She was oblivious to the weight of the truth I’d finally acknowledged.

The irony stung. I’d spent weeks, months even, fighting this connection, fearing the consequences, the chaos it could unleash. And now, when I’d finally surrendered, when I’d finally embraced the undeniable truth … she couldn’t even hear me.

It didn’t matter. We’d be home in Scalvaris soon. She’d be safe in my quarters, in my bed, soon enough. It took almost no effort for me to imagine her on my sleeping slab, hair spread out around her, the space somehow bending to her will.

Carefully, I eased us down, settling her against the curved outcropping of volcanic rock where I’d sat earlier. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her dark hair spilling across my chest. She murmured something unintelligible, a soft, sleepy sound that tugged at something deep within.

I wrapped my arms around her in a protective embrace, my wings shielding her from any threat. I would protect her. I would fight for her. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, to keep her by my side.

She was my mate.

And I wasn't letting her go.