Page 26 of Scorched by Fate (Drakarn Mates #3)

TWENTY-SIX

SELENE

It was hard to tell if the room itself was hot or if Vyne was the one heating it. Probably both.

His room was buried deep in Scalvaris—some hybrid of a forge, a bedroom, and an artist’s den. Not far from where I stood, a broad stone slab topped with silks served as a bed. If I looked too long at it, my heart started hammering.

But Vyne was the main attraction.

He was standing near the center of the room, wings half-furled, glancing my way with this tension that made me think of coiled springs. His scales caught the light, shimmering in that dark-green shade that reminded me of polished emeralds. Though he wasn’t moving, he was brimming with energy—a wildfire held behind a flimsy barrier.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. I knew exactly what he was waiting for, and I realized I’d been waiting just as desperately. My feet closed the distance between us, while inside me, everything seemed to stutter and surge at once.

He met me halfway, wings curving around in a slow sweep that made my breath catch. It was intimate—those tough, scaled membranes forming a secluded world for just the two of us. One of his hands rose, thumb brushing my jaw. A quick spark lit my nerve endings, and my focus tunneled in on him alone.

I wanted to say something—anything—but my mind was too tangled by the intensity in his gaze. His breath fanned across my cheek, warm as the forge’s embers, and my lips parted in anticipation before he moved. Then he was there, leaning in, claiming my mouth in a single, searing kiss that stole the last of my composure.

That first contact struck like lightning—pure, charged need. My eyes fluttered shut as tingles raced from the press of his lips to the tips of my fingers. I clung to his shoulders, half afraid my legs might give out from the sheer heat of him. Each slide of his mouth over mine stoked that inner flame, making my pulse pound so loudly that nothing else existed. The worries, the obligations … they dissolved into the background noise of the world.

His tongue teased the seam of my lips, a coaxing pressure that sent a small gasp tumbling out. He seized the sound, deepening the kiss even more. When his fangs grazed my lower lip, drawing a startled, breathless hitch from my chest, a surge of hunger jolted through me. His taste was salt and fire, a sensation that set every nerve alight.

I melted into him, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his back as though anchoring myself to reality. But reality shifted—narrowing down to the rough planes of his body beneath my hands and the muted growl resonating behind our joined mouths. Instinct took over, guiding me to open for him farther. His kiss grew more urgent and confident, each slow, thorough stroke enough to make me forget breathing.

The world tilted as he guided me backward, the edges of my vision hazy with want. My spine met the platform behind me in a less than gentle thump, jolting us just enough to break our lips apart. A ragged breath left me, matching his own uneven exhale. Our eyes met in that heartbeat of distance, and then he tugged me close again, our mouths catching in another all-consuming kiss that left no air between us.

I didn’t give him time to ask if I was sure—my answer was obvious. I grabbed a handful of his top, tugging him closer. He made a low, rough sound. Next thing I knew, he was slicing my shirt off with the edge of a claw, neat as a seam ripper. A startled laugh escaped me, cut short when his lips covered mine again.

He tasted urgent, like we’d put this off for far too long, even if it had only been a day. His wings shifted, brushing my bare shoulders. Everything felt fevered. When his tongue slid down my throat, I couldn’t stop the shudder, or the way my fingers fisted in his hair, searching for something to hold onto.

He had me up on the stone bed before I realized it, his body wedging between my knees. My thighs squeezed around him, and for a wild second, I remembered how strong he was—this Drakarn warrior who could bend steel and slice rock. Somehow, all that power was cradling me with a careful sweetness.

And he was all mine.

His kisses skimmed my collarbone, teeth grazing in a way that made me arch into him. Electricity fizzed along my nerves. I reached for the fastenings of his leathers, fumbling them loose, while he slid his hand down my side, claws pricking gently in warning. That tiny sting had my pulse kicking even faster.

Once his chest straps dropped away, I paused to stare. The crystals in the room cast him in half-shadows, revealing lines of muscle and scale, plus faint silver scars from old battles. I’d never get used to how gorgeous he was in his brutal, inhuman way.

Now I had all the time in the world to stare. No Ignarath warriors were chasing us down. The healers had the vyrathis they needed to heal.

And Vyne was my mate.

I was still getting used to that.

Vyne shifted closer, pressing me into the welcoming softness of the silks. He trailed kisses over my stomach, hungry but unhurried. I gasped when he finally moved between my thighs. His breath sent tingles through my hypersensitive skin.

Then that tongue of his, longer and rougher than any human’s, flicked against me. He traced the length of my slit, flicking and teasing in a way that sent electric jolts through me. Each pass of that rough tongue felt shockingly vivid, as if he had tapped directly into my nerve endings. He lapped at me like he was savoring the finest honey, slow and sensuous.

I trembled beneath him, skin flushed and hypersensitive. When he found my clit and zeroed in on it, I nearly screamed. He circled the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue, just barely grazing it, until I was shuddering and writhing helplessly against the slab. His wings enveloped us like a cocoon of heat and anticipation.

Just as he had my climax coiled tight, ready to spring, he abruptly withdrew. I made a strangled noise of protest, hips bucking uselessly. Vyne chuckled low and sultry, the sound reverberating through me.

"You want more, Zhyvarin ?" he purred, eyes glinting wickedly in the firelight.

I could only moan in response, utterly at his mercy. The knowledge only seemed to fuel his desire.

I tried to stifle a cry. No chance. It tore out anyway, echoing off the stone walls. He made a satisfied sound deep in his chest, the vibration nearly pushing me over the edge. My fingers clamped around his shoulders, nails scraping at his scales. Each pass of that wicked tongue felt shockingly vivid, until I was right at the point of toppling into oblivion.

But he pulled back before I finished. My outraged whimper must’ve amused him, because he had a half-smile on his lips when he crawled back up my body. That look disappeared into another kiss, scorching and immediate. I could feel the press of his cock—heavy and alien, with that odd, flared lip at the tip—stretching me in ways that made my vision haze.

He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, long enough for me to see the question in his eyes. I answered by rocking my hips, urging him. A growl rumbled through his chest. That single sound turned every nerve in my body to liquid fire.

Then he drove into me, slow at first, letting me adjust. My head fell back, a ragged moan bursting from somewhere deep in my chest. He felt impossibly big, stretching me wide, filling me completely. A strange tension unwound inside me as his thick length slid into my wet heat. It was like part of me had been waiting forever to slot into place with him, a perfect fit.

He buried himself fully with a trembling groan, chest heaving and muscles rippling beneath my fingers. "Selene," he grated out, voice raw with need and emotion.

"Vyne." My fingers found the wiry ridges at his nape, hooking there as I lifted my hips in response. He bit back a curse, pinning me down with strong hands, his grip both possessive and worshipful. My body shivered, and tingles spread along my skin from his touch.

That was all the warning I got before he started moving, a heated rhythm that built and built inside me. His hips rocked and bucked, driving into my core with firm, purposeful strokes. The slick sounds of our joining and our mingled pants and groans filled the air.

With each pass of his hard length, the tension inside me gathered and pulled taut, a coiling spring of building pleasure. I could feel myself growing hotter and wetter around him, my slick walls clenching and fluttering. My sex throbbed, a tight, focused ache that demanded to be filled and scratched.

He pounded into me, each powerful thrust jostling my body, rocking me with his force. That full, stretched feeling of his cock stroking deep grew sharper, more insistent. The drag of him across my senses was deliciously, exquisitely overwhelming. I wanted to be consumed and digested by the consuming pleasure until nothing remained but the infinite, inescapable finish of him.

I fisted a handful of silk, crying out. My climax rolled through me in dizzying waves. I barely came down before he pounded forward one last time, letting out a ragged cry that shook my bones. His wings flared wide, tail lashing against the stone. The sudden burst of warmth deep inside me made my body clamp around him all over again, a final spasm of shared passion.

It took awhile, but we unfurled from that state of frantic bliss, panting like we’d run a marathon. The heat of the room folded in around us, but for once, it didn’t feel stifling. Our bodies stuck together with sweat, but I was in no rush to pull away.

His weight pressed into me for a minute, heavy and protective. Then, carefully, he slipped free, leaving my limbs quivering. My face felt hot, but my heart felt strangely light.

He settled at my side, half propped up on an elbow. I laughed under my breath. “I can’t feel my legs,” I murmured.

"Good,” he was all male satisfaction. He reached down, dragging the silks over us, and the subtle thoughtfulness made my chest tighten in a whole different way. A girl could get used to this.

For a while, we lay there, listening to each other breathe. His tail drifted over my leg in a lazy caress.

My gaze landed on Vyne’s face. He was watching me with this intensity that could have been intimidating if I didn’t know him so well. I traced a faint scar along his collarbone. “I love you, you know,” I blurted.

He stilled. For a split second, I wondered if I’d gone too far. Shit. This whole mating thing was too new, too unexpected. Emotions were running high. Endorphins were screwing with my head. I could make a dozen excuses, and none of them would be true.

Then his eyes softened. “I … I love you too, Zhyvarin ,” he said, so quiet I barely heard it, a secret encapsulated by the rock walls around us.

My throat squeezed. It felt like I’d spent years stumbling through chaos, only to finally land there, wrapped in this Drakarn’s arms. My earlier guilt poked at me—there were still so many people outside this room who needed help. But I couldn’t argue that this moment was essential, too.

I couldn't do this without Vyne. Without my mate.

When I curled in closer, he tucked me under his chin, a fierce tenderness in the gesture. The last remnants of the tension I was carrying started to bleed away.

“We should rest,” he said. “Tomorrow will be … complicated.”

I huffed a wry sound, already imagining the avalanche of tasks waiting. “It’s always complicated. But at least I’ll have you to help me through it.”

My voice was heavy with lingering exhaustion, so the last few words came out tender, almost shy. That was new and startling, but he didn’t seem to mind. He pulled the silks tighter around us, sealing in the comforting weight of this private forge filled only with our mingled breath.

I pressed a final kiss to his scaled neck, letting my eyelids sink shut. Somehow, even amid all the chaos forever swirling in this world, I felt … safe. It was a luxury I barely felt like I deserved.

Sleep claimed me gently as Vyne’s breathing evened out, and my last thought was simple:

Finally, I’d found something worth letting myself fall for.