Chapter 114 Dante
The wet slap of skin on skin echoed as I set a brutal rhythm, each thrust bottoming out, my balls smacking against her ass. She met me stroke for stroke, her hips bucking wildly, pussy gripping me like she never wanted to let go.
"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, leaning down to suck on her lower lip, biting just enough to sting. My hand slid between us, thumb finding her clit and rubbing firm circles, making her walls flutter around my pistoning cock.
She moaned loudly, head thrown back, exposing the mark I'd given her. I couldn't resist, my mouth latched onto it, tongue laving the sensitive skin as I fucked her relentlessly. Her fingers dug into my scalp, holding me there while her body coiled tighter.
"Come for me again," I demanded against her neck, speeding up my thrusts, the bed creaking under the assault.
Her response was a shattered scream, her orgasm crashing over her, juices squirting around my shaft as she convulsed. The sensation pulled me under, too. I drove deep, flooding her once more with thick ropes of cum, marking her insides as thoroughly as the bite on her skin.
We rode it out together, slowing to lazy grinds until I collapsed beside her, pulling her into my arms. She nuzzled my chest, content but sated, the bond thrumming stronger than ever.
I let out a long breath and brushed my thumb along her hip, half-smiling despite how wrung out we both felt.
“Well,” I murmured, voice rough with warmth and exhaustion, “at least you didn’t set the bedroom on fire this time.”
She made a soft, breathy sound that turned into a quiet giggle, then another. “Progress,” she said faintly.
Her body relaxed fully then, sinking into the mattress and into me like she’d finally allowed herself to stop holding everything together. I pulled her close, wrapping her up against my chest as the heat between us settled into something slow and steady.
The bond between us pulsed.
Not violently. Not urgently.
Blooming.
Growing the way something alive should—roots stretching, settling deeper. I could feel it anchoring itself into both of us, patient and inevitable. I knew it the same way I knew my own heartbeat.
By this time tomorrow, we wouldn’t just feel mated.
We’d be marked.
A visible claim. A warning. A promise etched into skin that said don’t even think about it.
Seraphine was halfway to sleep when she suddenly bolted upright.
“FUCK.”
I startled so hard I nearly fell off the bed. “What? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
She stared at the wall for a second, eyes wide, then dragged a hand down her face.
“I promised,” she said miserably. “I promised I’d wait. Amara and Lucian were supposed to mate first. Same night. It was supposed to be… symbolic.”
I blinked.
Then, from the room next door—
A very distinct sound drifted through the wall. A loud moan that echoed off the walls drifted into our room.
Seraphine froze mid-panic.
We both listened.
Another sound followed. Another loud moan and then a giggle. Then a very familiar voice, Lucian’s, murmuring something low and entirely inappropriate.
Seraphine slowly sank back down onto the bed.
“Oh,” she said, suddenly calm again. “Never mind.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. “That was fast.”
She huffed, rolling onto her side and tucking herself against me again, completely content now. “I can’t believe I stressed about that.”
I laughed quietly, pressing my forehead to her hair. “You really made a promise like that?”
She shrugged. “We’ve been through a lot together. It felt… important. Like surviving deserved symmetry.”
I kissed her temple softly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Shut up,” she muttered, smiling into my chest.
I tightened my arms around her, feeling the bond hum between us—stronger, warmer, undeniable.
“Get some sleep, High Priestess,” I murmured. “Tomorrow we deal with the world.”
She sighed, already drifting. “As long as I get to deal with it with you.”
Always.
I stayed awake long after her breathing evened out.
Seraphine slept curled into my side.
Her face was soft now, lashes resting against her cheeks, the sharp edges of the day finally dulled by exhaustion. The room was quiet. Safe.
Too quiet.
There was a weight on my chest that had nothing to do with her head resting there.
It pressed from the inside out, subtle but insistent, like a low, distant tremor before an eruption. I lay still, eyes open, listening, not with my ears, but with the part of me that felt flame and bond and truth.
Something was wrong.
Not danger exactly. Not pain the way I understood it.
It felt… strained.
I shifted just enough to look down at her, careful not to wake her. She didn’t stir. Her breathing stayed slow, but there was a faint tension in it, a hitch every few breaths that didn’t belong to sleep alone.
This was coming from her.
From Seraphine.
Or from what she carried now.
My fire stirred uneasily, answering the sensation without instruction. The bond hummed low, not alarmed, but attentive. Listening.
Is this your stress? I wondered silently. Your fear?
She’d carried the weight of kings and laws and blood tonight like it was nothing, but I knew better. Strength didn’t mean untouched. It meant choosing to stand anyway.
The pressure shifted, deepening for a heartbeat.
Not sharper.
Closer.
And suddenly it clicked.
This wasn’t her mind spiraling. This wasn’t leftover fear from the council or the Old Guard or what she’d become.
This was her dragon.
Reaching.
Testing.
I swallowed, slow and careful, keeping my breathing steady so I didn’t wake her. My fire answered instinctively, not flaring, not pushing—just present. An open door instead of a challenge.
Easy, I thought, not sure who I was talking to anymore. She’s safe. I’ve got her.
The weight eased slightly.
Not gone, but acknowledged.
A quiet awareness brushed against me then, vast and ancient and coiled tight with exhaustion. Not wounded. Not hostile.
Tired.
Guarded.
Watching me watch her.
“She pushed herself too far,” I murmured under my breath, barely sound at all. “Didn’t she?”
The presence didn’t retreat.
Didn’t advance.
But it stayed.
And I understood.
This wasn’t a test of strength.
It was a question.
Will you hold the line when she sleeps?
Will you carry some of this when she can’t?
My jaw tightened.
“Yes,” I said silently, fire settling deep in my chest. “I will. You don’t have to burn alone anymore.”
The pressure finally loosened, just a fraction, like a creature curling in on itself to rest without fully standing down.
Seraphine shifted then, pressing closer, her fingers flexing once before relaxing again. The bond pulsed warm and sure, weaving tighter without demanding anything of either of us yet.
I kissed the top of her head, slow and reverent.
“Sleep,” I whispered. “I’ll keep watch.”