Chapter 71 Coming Home
Azerath
The kiss with Elyndra still burned on my lips— foul, wrong, like poison.
I had not wanted it. Gods, how I had not wanted it. Every second my mouth had been on hers had felt like betrayal carved into my soul, a knife twisting deeper with each heartbeat. Serafina was only paces away and yet I had forced myself to lean in, to cup that monster’s face, to taste her.
My plan had been simple, desperate. Lure her close enough that my soul-fire could ignite her, burn her to nothing before she could twist away. One kiss. One moment of feigned surrender. Then freedom.
But Elyndra had been stronger than I remembered.
As our lips met, I had poured every ounce of dragon-flame into her. I felt the fire race through her veins, watched her porcelain skin blacken and peel away in curling sheets.
For one heartbeat, I thought it had worked.
Then the damage vanished.
Flesh reformed. Smooth. Perfect. Untouched.
The darkness inside her drank my power and laughed. She had taken the Dark Prince’s power too far. It had remade her into something that refused to die.
I had underestimated her. Again.
But Serafina had not.
Even now, beneath the full light of morning, I could still see the moment she understood. Her gaze had locked onto the ring on Elyndra’s finger—that black stone pulsing with sick green light.
Then she moved. Fast. Precise. Merciless.
The axe cut clean. The hand fell.
And before Elyndra could recover, before she could escape, my blade found her throat in one final, decisive strike.
Now the clearing stood still. Leaves rustled softly. Birds called in the distance. Elyndra’s remains had already turned to ash, scattering with the wind. The severed hand had crumbled with her, leaving only that cursed band behind.
I had sealed it away—wrapped in lead, hidden in my pocket beside the travel orb.
The threat was gone.
So why did the guilt remain?
I wanted to fall to my knees and beg Serafina for forgiveness. To tell her the kiss had been nothing but a distraction, a calculated cruelty I had hated with every fragment of my being. That I would rather have torn out my own tongue than taste Elyndra again.
That she was the only one I wanted.
But when I turned to her, the words died.
Serafina was staring at me. Not with anger. Not with hurt.
With awe.
Sunlight poured over me, and my body answered. Scales rose beneath my skin, catching the light—crimson, gold, sapphire, violet—alive and shifting. Power returned to me in a steady surge, filling what the night had drained.
My ember burned strong again.
And she saw it.
She saw me.
Her lips parted. Her eyes held something bright—wonder, recognition, something deeper I could feel but not name. She wasn’t looking at a man pretending to be human. She wasn’t seeing the weight of contracts or curses.
She saw the dragon.
My throat tightened, overcome with a sudden rush of joy.
She stepped closer. Her hand lifted, trembling slightly, reaching for the scaled line of my jaw. I caught her fingers before they touched, bringing her palm to my lips. I pressed a soft kiss there, letting everything I couldn’t say pass through that single moment.
Thank you. For seeing me. For not turning away.
But Serafina did not want thanks.
She moved forward, small hands fisting in my tunic, and dragged my mouth down to hers.
The kiss was fire.
Hungry. Needy. Raw. She rose onto her toes, pressing every inch of herself against me as though she could melt us into one being. A soft, desperate moan vibrated in her throat, and the sound nearly undid me. My arms encircled her waist, pushing her soft pliant body against my hardness. She was warm as sunlight, and she tasted like victory and relief and everything I had ever wanted.
I almost lost myself completely.
But the wards were not yet set. We were still exposed.
With one arm holding her, I lifted the other. Magic answered instantly. Trees surged upward around us, thick trunks weaving together. Branches spread, leaves unfurling in seconds until the sky disappeared behind a living canopy.
The air inside our new sanctuary grew hushed, intimate, safe.
Only then did I let go of restraint.
I swept Serafina fully into my arms, never breaking the kiss, and carried her toward the hut. She clung to me, fingers threading through my hair, tugging just hard enough to send sparks down my spine.
Inside, just as I moved to shut the door, Serafina pulled back suddenly, breathless.
“Wait,” she gasped. “Blink’s still out there. Blink!”
A joyful bark answered. The black wolf bounded through the doorway just before I sealed it, tail wagging so hard her whole body shook. She circled once, then flopped down in the corner of the main room with a satisfied huff, clearly content to guard us from within.
Serafina laughed softly against my mouth, the sound bright and sweet. Then her expression shifted, eyes darkening with new awareness. “We’re both… covered in blood. And you’re burning up.”
She was right. My ember roared inside me, hotter than it had been in days. Her clothes and skin were streaked with Elyndra’s blood. We needed cleansing and I needed to cool before I scorched her by accident.
Without a word I carried her through the back into the bath hut. The stone pool filled with a flick of my fingers, clear water rising fast. Rose petals scattered across the surface, drifting in slow circles.
I set Serafina gently on the wide stone ledge that bordered the pool. Her legs dangled over the edge. I knelt between them, still fully clothed, and captured her mouth again—deep, slow, devouring. While she was lost in the kiss I snapped my fingers.
Fabric vanished.
Both of us were suddenly, gloriously naked.
Serafina gasped, a startled sound that melted into embarrassment. Her hands flew to cover herself, trying to close her thighs even as I remained kneeling between them. Pink flushed across her cheeks and down her throat.
“Don’t be shy, my wife,” I murmured, voice rough with desire. I caught her wrists gently, drawing them up to loop around my neck instead. My gaze roamed over her unhindered—full, soft breasts tipped with dusky rose, the delicate curve of her waist, the dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. “You are so beautiful, Serafina. Every inch of you was made to be worshipped.”
I kissed her again, deeper this time, letting my hands explore. I cupped the weight of her breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that tightened instantly beneath my touch.
She arched with a broken moan. “It feels so good…”
A low chuckle escaped me. “There is so much more, love.”
My palms slid downward, tracing the smooth plane of her stomach, the flare of her hips. I stroked the sensitive skin of her inner thighs until she trembled. When my fingers brushed the slick heat between her legs, she jolted, eyes flying wide.
“There’s a heat there I’ve never felt before,” she whispered, voice shaking with wonder and need.
“I know,” I said tenderly. “Lean back for me. Spread your legs, Serafina. Let me taste you.”
She obeyed, cheeks flaming, but her trust in me was absolute. She reclined on her elbows, lifted her feet to the ledge, and opened herself completely. The sight of her like that—pink, glistening, utterly exposed—sent a bolt of raw lust through me. Her folds were swollen, slick with arousal, her little nub pebbled and begging.
I leaned in and dragged my tongue slowly from her entrance to her clit.
Serafina cried out, hips jerking.
She tasted like honey and wildflowers and pure woman. I groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her most sensitive flesh. I circled her clit with the flat of my tongue, teasing, flicking, then sucking gently. One thumb pressed at her entrance, feeling the rhythmic clench as her body begged for more. I slid a finger inside her—tight, scorching, perfect—and curled it just so.
Her thighs began to shake. Her breathing fractured into desperate little sobs. I increased the pace, tongue working faster, two fingers now stroking deep and steady. I could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her.
When she climaxed, it was magnificent.
Serafina threw her head back, a raw cry tearing from her throat as her ember exploded with light. Golden radiance poured from her chest, bathing her entire body in shimmering glow. Her inner walls clamped down on my fingers in rhythmic pulses, flooding my tongue with fresh sweetness. I didn’t stop until the last tremor faded and she sagged, glowing.
I rose, gathered her limp form into my arms, and stepped down into the pool. The moment my overheated body met the water, steam billowed up around us in fragrant clouds. Her legs wound instinctively around my waist, arms around my neck.
“Serafina,” I rasped, voice thick. “Open your eyes, love. I need you to look at me when I enter you.”
She blinked up at me, dazed and shining. “Enter…?”
“Like this.”
I shifted my hips, positioned the blunt head of my cock at her entrance, and slowly—achingly slowly—began to lower her onto me.
She was impossibly tight.
A soft whimper escaped her as the thick crown breached her. I felt the resistance of her maiden barrier, the flutter of virgin muscles trying to accommodate my size. Pain flickered across her face for a heartbeat, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she clung tighter, breathing through it, trusting me.
For me it was pure ecstasy.
Her heat enveloped me inch by inch, silky and searing. I groaned deep in my chest, fighting the urge to thrust hard and bury myself to the hilt. When I was finally seated fully inside her, we both stilled, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air.
“You feel… gods, Serafina… you feel like coming home,” I whispered.
She gave a shaky laugh that turned into a moan as I rocked gently, letting her adjust. The pain eased; pleasure took its place. Her hips began to move in tiny, experimental circles. I met each motion with careful thrusts, letting her set the rhythm at first.
Soon she grew bolder. Her nails dug into my shoulders. Her moans turned rhythmic, needy. Water sloshed around us as I began to move with more purpose—long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive place inside her. I angled my hips so the base of my cock rubbed her clit with every thrust.
Serafina’s head fell back, lips parted on a constant stream of soft cries. Her ember flared again, smaller this time, bathing her breasts in golden light. I bent my head and captured one nipple in my mouth, sucking hard while I drove into her faster.
The coil of pleasure at the base of my spine tightened unbearably.
I lifted my head to watch her face. “Look at me, wife. I want to see you when I fill you.”
Her eyes opened—dark, glazed, adoring.
I thrust harder, deeper, chasing release. The water churned. Steam thickened. Her inner walls began to flutter wildly around me again.
“Azerath—” she gasped.
“Come with me,” I growled.
Her second climax crashed over her like a wave. Light exploded from her chest once more, and her cry of pleasure echoed off the stone walls. The rhythmic squeezing of her body around my cock shattered the last of my control.
With a guttural roar I buried myself to the hilt and let go.
Pleasure tore through me in white-hot pulses. I spilled deep inside her—again and again—filling her with every drop of my release. My scales shimmered brighter, my ember flaring in perfect sync with hers. For a long moment there was nothing but heat and light and the overwhelming sensation of being completely, perfectly joined.
When our orgasms finally ebbed, I held her close, still buried inside her, both of us trembling. I pressed soft kisses to her damp forehead, her closed eyelids, the corner of her mouth.
“My Serafina,” I whispered against her skin. “My light. My wife. My mate. Forever.”
She smiled, exhausted and radiant, and nuzzled into my neck.
“Forever,” she agreed, voice husky with satisfaction.
Outside, Blink gave a soft, approving woof from the other room, as if sealing the vow.
And in that moment, with the woman I loved safe in my arms and the sun still shining beyond our living canopy, I knew peace for the first time in centuries.