Chapter 49 First Kiss
Serafina
Azerath watched me without speaking. I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled my cloak around my shoulders and adjusted the strap of my bag.
When I turned toward him, he stepped closer, fingers brushing the edge of my cloak to straighten it.
“Most of the people will be already asleep,” he said, voice low and serious. “When we arrive, we scout first. No magic unless necessary. We will keep ourselves hidden at all times.”
I nodded. “Right. Quiet. Invisible.” I pressed a finger lightly against his chest. “No setting anything on fire unless absolutely required, okay?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a brief, amused smirk. “Okay. But no promises."
“Azerath…” I said, giving him a sharp warning look.
“Fine,” he murmured, voice low. “No fire… unless you ask me to.”
“Better,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the tension in my chest. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The plan was simple: fly to the Dusty Hills under cover of night, approach the back gates, infiltrate the shack where Lio and I stayed. But simple didn’t mean easy. The Warden’s tower loomed in my mind, its shadow reaching over everything. The Collectors and Imperial Enforcers would be on high alert too.
Azerath opened the door, the cool night air rushing in, carrying the earthy scent of rain-soaked soil. Blink stretched and followed, her eyes glowing faintly in the dark. I stepped out after them, glancing back at the hut before it disappeared behind us.
We moved through the trees toward the small clearing where we would take flight. Blink padded ahead in wolf form, then she shifted seamlessly from wolf to raven and lifted into the dark sky to scout.
I stole a glance at him. Moonlight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shimmer of his skin, his dark hair shaped like a flickering flame. He looked carved from shadow and gold, untouchable, yet here he was, walking beside me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world.
My heart gave an unsteady thud at the thought.
When we reached the clearing, he stopped me beneath a tree.
“Serafina,” he said quietly, like a caress.
The way he said my name made heat bloom low in my belly.
I swallowed. “Yes?”
He took a step closer. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the steady pulse of his Ember answering mine.
“You were magnificent today,” he murmured. “The way you fought. The way you refused to break. The way you looked at me when that Lumenflare finally struck true.” His gaze dropped to my mouth for half a heartbeat before returning to my eyes. “I’ve lived centuries. I’ve seen power awaken in others. I’ve never seen anything like you.”
My brow shot up, unconvinced. “You’re flattering me.” I giggled, trying to hide the flutter in my chest. “If you’re trying to boost my confidence, it’s working.”
“No.” He shook his head once, slow and certain. “I’m telling you the truth. And I’m telling you because tonight we walk into danger, and I refuse to let another hour pass without you knowing how much you already mean to me.”
I stared up at him, doubt in my eyes. “Please. I was promised to you. Whatever you’re feeling, Azerath, it’s just the dragon resonance speaking.”
"Do you actually believe that, Serafina?" he asked. "Is that why you push me away?"
His voice was low and husky, his golden eyes burning brighter. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just stared, caught in a trance between awe and yearning.
He lifted a hand slowly, giving me every chance to step back. I didn’t.
His fingertips brushed my cheek, feather-light, then slid along my jaw until his palm cupped the side of my face. His thumb traced the edge of my lower lip, and I felt my own lips part on a shaky exhale.
“I wanted to kiss you earlier,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “When I repaired your shirt. When your skin was warm under my fingers and your eyes were daring me to cross the line. I wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt to hold back.”
My heart slammed against my ribs at his confession. “Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“Because you needed to master your power first. Because I didn’t want our first kiss to be tangled in frustration or fear.” His golden eyes burned darker now. “Because I have buried kingdoms for less than what I feel for you. Because if I take without being chosen, I become the monster they believe me to be."
He paused, letting his words hang between us.
“But mostly,” he continued, voice softer now, “because I wanted you to want it too. Not because the moment swept us up. Because you chose it.”
Thunder had long since faded, but something electric still crackled between us.
Something inside me pushed past the hesitation. I reached up, fingers curling into the front of his tunic. The fabric was soft, warm from his body. I tugged gently, urging him closer.
“I choose it now,” I whispered, full of want.
For one suspended second, neither of us moved.
Then he closed the distance, hand cupping my cheek as he lifted my face to his. I felt the heat of him brush against me, a quiet, inevitable pull I could no longer resist.
His mouth met mine—slow at first, as if he were memorizing every curve, every movement of my lips. His lips were gentle, but firm, tasting faintly of the wine he’d drunk earlier and something primal—the subtle salt of want.
My hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, into his hair. It was thick and soft, and when I threaded my fingers through it, he made a low, rough sound against my mouth that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
I melted against him, feeling the slow bloom of raw desire, the sharp tug of need, and the sweet, dizzying rush of pleasure spreading through me.
He angled his head, deepening the kiss. One arm banded around my waist, pulling me flush against him until there was nothing between us but heat and heartbeat. His other hand cradled the back of my neck, thumb stroking along the sensitive skin just below my ear. Every touch felt both hungry and satisfying.
I pressed closer, rising onto my toes, opening to him. His tongue brushed mine—once, teasing—then again, slower, deeper. A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it. He answered with a quiet growl, fingers tightening around my waist.
When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine, eyes closed, like he was trying to steady himself.
“I’ve waited lifetimes for that,” he rasped.
My laugh was shaky, breathless. “You could have kissed me last night."
“I was trying to be noble.” He opened his eyes, and the raw want in them stole what little air I had left. “I failed spectacularly.”
I brushed my thumb along his cheek. “I don’t want noble tonight. I want you. All of you. Man and dragon."
His gaze flared. He kissed me again—harder this time, less controlled. My back met the smooth trunk of a tree; he braced one hand above my head, caging me without trapping me. I arched into him, hands roaming over the hard planes of his back, feeling muscle shift beneath fabric. His mouth left mine to trail along my jaw, down the side of my neck. When his teeth grazed the sensitive spot where my pulse hammered, I gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders.
It was embers catching, heat embracing—rising, consuming, and perfect.
“Azerath…” I moaned, wanting more.
He lifted his head just enough to meet my eyes. “If we do not leave now,” he murmured, voice roughened, “I will forget entirely about your brother and the Empire.”
“How about we postpone until tomorrow?” I suggested boldly, before I could stop myself.
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.
He kissed me once more—soft and lingering—then stepped back, though his hand remained at my waist, his thumb brushing slow circles over the fabric of my shirt.
“We have to go,” he said, a trace of regret in his voice. “Your brother is waiting."
Reality slammed into me. Lio. Dust. The Warden. The Empire.
What was I thinking?
I nodded, cheeks burning, my body still humming from his touch. “Of course, duty calls. Flying. Rescuing. Important things.”
He chuckled under his breath and pressed one last kiss to my forehead. “After we bring him home,” he murmured against my skin, “I intend to kiss you again. Properly. Without trees or timelines or empires between us.”
My heart skipped. “Promise?”
He drew back, his expression turning solemn. “On my soul-fire.”
We stepped into the open space. He extended his hand. I took it without hesitation, lacing our fingers together.
Blink returned in raven form, landing on my shoulder. She let out a soft croak that sounded suspiciously like an 'all clear', then lifted into the sky once more.
Azerath looked at me then—his gaze softer than I had ever seen it. “Ready?”
I squeezed his hand. “With you? Always.”
He released me.
For one heartbeat, he was still the man I had just kissed—warm, solid, close enough that I could still feel his breath.
Then the air shifted.
Light began to glow beneath his skin, gold and fierce. His body arched as it changed—cloth dissolving into sparks, bone and muscle reshaping with a deep, resonant crack. Wings burst free in a sweeping arc, immense and powerful. Scales rippled into place, dark and edged with ember light.
Wind rushed outward. Heat followed.
And where he had stood—a dragon rose.
He lowered his massive head toward me. Golden eyes—ancient, intelligent, unmistakably his—held mine.
Not a monster. Him.
Once, I would have stepped back.
Now, I pulled my hood over my head and stepped forward instead.
I placed my palm against the heat of his scales, feeling the strength beneath them—controlled, waiting.
He lowered one wing to the ground in silent invitation.
I climbed. No trembling hands. No second thoughts.
I settled at the junction of his neck and back, fingers pressing into the warm, smooth curve of his scales as his wings stretched outward, unfurling to their full, breathtaking span.
The night wind howled.
His muscles coiled. He leapt. The ground fell away.
Air rushed past us as his wings beat once—then twice—and we lifted into the sky, rising steadily into the darkness.
I pressed forward, clinging onto him, heart calm.
I was no longer afraid.
I was determined.
And I was no longer alone.