Page 136 of The Dragon Warlord

“I know how much you like to be rescued, my little dragon in distress.” Tristan kisses along my neck and sucks hickeys there. “After I’m done with them, no one is taking you again. I plan on sending a message that will spread across the mountains. That will be fun, extracting this sarsen stone from the mountains will not.”

“At least we found it, Warlord.”

“We did. Now brace yourself. I need to take you again and this time I plan to carve my name into your insides.”

24

Just Shy Of Ten Dragon Land Years Later

River

Someone is shaking me awake. “Riv. Riv, wake up. C’mon, I don’t want to miss it,” Tristan says and by the sounds of his fresh voice, he’s been awake for a little while.

It’s still dark, but the sun is about to rise over The Tower. I roll over and smile up at him, my savage romantic. Having him drag me to the veranda over his shoulder would fall into that category. Unfortunately, he knows what I’m thinking.

“No. Up.”

To make sure it happens, he tugs me by my arms and eventually, I comply. “To think there was a time when I said something, and you immediately sprang into action.”

“But you said—”

“I’m teasing, love.”

I mostly knew that, but I still worry sometimes.

I don’t move fast enough for him and eventually, I get what I want. He tosses me over his large shoulder with a thin blanket wrapped around my waist. We’ll go home soon to what Tristan and I have decided is our other home. Only between us. Father would have a fit if he knew. Tristan hasn’t said it out loud, but he feels this is our home too. It’s undeniable. We have too many memories here now, and a whole life together.

He sits in the large chair, and I sit where I always sit, in his lap. I’m usually cold this early in the morning. He’s hot. Pressed against his naked body, I’m toasty warm. He wraps his arms around me. “Happy Us Day,” he says.

Some years ago, Tristan figured out which day he bit me. It’s not the exact day, but it’s close enough. He’s got a tray of honeycakes for us, tea, and a single dragon crystal flower in a vase for me. He sucks on the bite for now instead of sinking his teeth in—that will come later—and we watch the sun rise over another gorgeous day at The Tower. Our lives are always busy, but at least it’s been peaceful. We’ve had no trouble from the Emperor since Tristan closed the veil.

Once the sun is up, I flip around and grind against his bare cock, draping my arms around his neck, feasting on his lips, and teasing him into ravaging me. I’ve been a blushing virgin for thirteen hundred years and yet ten years of Tristan taking me in the dirtiest ways possible has erased that from memory, leaving only a sex fiend in my former self’s place.

Using my hips, he guides me onto his long cock while he bruises my lips with a kiss. I don’t bother with gentle, bouncing on his dick like the feral dragon that I am, giving him every piece of me.

“Yours, yours, yours,” I chant.

“Mine,” he growls.

We had to get up before dawn if we wanted to do this. It’s going to be a long day of training that’ll start just after breakfast, which we eat in the Mess Hall on the training site as often as possible. That’s where we go right after we fuck and eat honeycakes.

“I tried to get the day off,” he says as an apology.

Father doesn’t give him that many days off. “This was perfect. I don’t want to miss training anyway.”

We are war dragons. It’s what we’re made for.

He’s not keen to miss training either, but he doesn’t mind a few days off now and then and I tend to distract him.

Tristan walks through The Tower like a storm to assure them of his strength and dragons bow for their Warlord as we make our way to the portal in his war room that will take us to the training fields. He’s grown a few sizes across his chest and shoulders since we’ve been here. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m so proud that he’s mine.

They avoid direct eye contact with me, but I know they’re always keen to catch a glimpse. Tristan is protective. He’s fucking possessive. No one wants to give him the impression they’re staring at what’s his even though he’s eased a little in that area.

Our sex life went wild when we first began having it, but over time it ironed out once Tristan accepted the bonds that he has. We’ve still got the sexual appetites of dragons, but Tristan was right, we were going to break our dicks on the sex schedule we were keeping.

Breakfast is the social affair Tristan envisioned when he suggested that Father build the hall. Warriors sit with their friends and share stories. The food is good, and the honey mead is plentiful. There is a table reserved for the Warlord and his omega, but it’s long with many chairs and others are free to join.

This morning, Tristan clangs a fork on his pint of mead. “Can I have everyone’s attention? This is a special time of year. Twenty years ago, for us, fifty for all of you, I bonded with my omega. I went straight for his neck without sniffing a hair on anyone’s head because he was meant for me. He’s rightfully mine. That means I’m also his.” He stares at me with love in his dragon heart.