Chapter 79 Quiet
Bella
We slip back into the camp under the cover of moonlight. The runes on the stones glow faintly, casting long shadows across the tents, and the guards nod at us without a word. Ashlyn’s already vanished into her tent, and Gilfred scampers ahead, disappearing in with her. Smart little guy. He knows when to give us space. My heart’s still racing, not just from the fight, but from… him. Damien. Gods, the way he’d shifted, that roar shaking the earth, fire pouring from him like he’d burn the world to keep me safe. And his dragon growling through the bond, all possessive fury and raw power. It should terrify me, that kind of intensity. But it doesn’t. It lights something up inside me. I’ve read about this in those books—the rush after danger, the way bodies crave each other like they’re proving they’re alive. But feeling it? Watching him defend me like I’m the only thing that matters? It’s a turn-on I didn’t know existed.
Damien holds the tent flap open for me, his hand brushing my back as I duck inside. The space is small and intimate. Our bedroll is spread out on the ground, a single lantern flickering low. It smells like that mix of smoke and frost that’s become my favourite scent. He follows, his massive frame filling the entrance, making the tent feel even smaller. He has to stoop a little, his broad shoulders brushing the fabric. Gods, he’s huge. All muscle and heat, with only that half-wet cloak draped over him like an afterthought. He straightens as much as he can, shrugging off the cloak with a low grunt. The fabric slides down his arms, pooling at his feet, leaving him completely naked. Again. I bite my lip to stifle a laugh—or maybe a gasp—because honestly, how does he manage this? One shift, and poof, no clothes. But there he stands, all golden skin and sculpted lines. The lantern light dances over him, highlighting the ridges of his abs, the powerful thighs that could probably crush stone. And lower… well, let’s just say the books didn’t exaggerate about dragon kings.
He reaches for the bag of spare clothes tucked in the corner. His muscles flex with the motion, and something in me snaps. No. Not yet. I don’t want him covered up, not when my body’s still humming from the fight, from him.
“Wait,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. We have to be quiet—the tents are close, voices murmuring faintly outside, the guards’ footsteps crunching on the thawing ground. Thin walls mean thin privacy.
He pauses, glancing over his shoulder, those golden eyes locking on mine. “Snowflake?”
I step closer, my hand catching his wrist before he can grab a shirt. His skin is so warm, like he’s got fire simmering just beneath. “Don’t. Not yet.”
His brow furrows, but there’s a spark in his eyes of understanding dawning. The bond hums between us, warm and teasing, his dragon’s low rumble echoing in my mind. She wants us.
Damien’s lips curve faintly. “Bella… everyone’s right outside.”
“I know,” I murmur, sliding my hand up his arm, feeling the corded muscle tense under my touch. “That’s why we’ll be quiet.”
He exhales slowly, turning to face me fully. Gods, he’s towering over me now, his presence filling every inch of the tent. I can feel the heat radiating from him, chasing away the last chill from the fight. My fingers trace down his chest, over the mark that binds us.
“You were incredible out there,” I whisper, leaning in until my lips brush his skin. “The way you shifted, defended me… it was such a turn-on. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
His hands find my waist, gentle but firm, pulling me closer. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze.
He hesitates, glancing at the tent walls, but the dragon’s voice purrs through us both. Let her. She’s ours.
Damien’s eyes darken, and he nods, his voice a rough whisper. “Quiet, then.”
I smile, pushing him gently toward the bedroll. He lowers himself carefully, the fabric rustling under his weight, his large frame sprawling out like a king on his throne. I follow, straddling his hips, my dress hiking up my thighs. The contact sends a spark through me—his heat against my cool skin, the hard length of him pressing up, already responding. I rock once, slowly, and he bites back a groan, his hands gripping my hips to still me.
“Snowflake,” he warns, voice strained.
“Shh.” I lean down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. His hands slide up my back, warm and steady, melting any lingering frost. I deepen the kiss, nipping at his bottom lip, and he responds with a low, muffled rumble—his dragon approving.
Outside, a guard coughs, footsteps passing nearby. We freeze for a heartbeat, then I smile against his mouth. “See? Quiet.”
He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. My hands explore him, tracing the lines of his abs, lower, until I wrap my fingers around him. He’s hot, hard, pulsing in my grip. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut as I stroke slowly, softly, building the rhythm without rush.
“Bella…” His whisper is ragged, his hips lifting just a fraction.
I shift, guiding him beneath my dress. I tug my underwear aside, positioning myself, and sink down inch by inch. Gods, the stretch, the fullness—it’s exquisite, soft waves of pleasure rolling through me. His hands tighten on my waist, guiding but not forcing, letting me set the pace. I move slowly, rocking in gentle circles, the friction building heat where our magics meet—frost and fire blending into something perfect. The bond pulses brighter, pleasure echoing between us, his dragon’s satisfaction humming like a distant roar.
“Feel that?” I whisper, leaning forward to brush my lips against his ear. “That’s us.”
He nods, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through the fabric, thumb circling softly. A quiet gasp escapes me, but I bite it back, turning it into a sigh. The tent walls rustle faintly with the wind, masking our breaths, our soft movements. We keep it slow, tender—his hips rising to meet mine in measured thrusts, my fingers digging into his shoulders for balance. Pleasure coils low, building like a gentle storm, no crashes or blizzards, just steady waves of steam. His free hand traces my thigh, warm and reassuring, while his eyes lock on mine, golden and intense.
“You’re everything,” he whispers.
The words tip me over. The release crashes softly, a shiver of frost and heat rippling through me, my body clenching around him. He follows a heartbeat later, spilling into me with a muffled groan, his arms wrapping around to hold me close.
We stay like that, tangled and breathless, the world outside fading. His heat seeps into me, chasing away the last echoes of the fight.
Damien kisses my forehead, his voice a whisper. “Sleep now, Snowflake.”
I nod, curling against him, our bodies still joined in that soft, intimate way. With him, even the quiet moments burn bright.