Chapter 5 His Mansion
\[Vayra's POV\]
Rain has followed us all the way back, a curtain of silver sliding past the wide glass windows of his mansion—steady, soft, relentless. I stand just inside the doorway, barefoot, wrapped in a clean shirt that hangs loose on my shoulders. The fabric smells faintly of soap and smoke—his scent—left from when he helped wash the blood and mud away.
The warmth here feels wrong and dreamlike: polished floors, a hearth’s amber flicker, the quiet hum of rooms that have never known chains or red light.
It’s everything the brothel was not, and yet part of me can’t breathe. The house is too clean, too safe, a place that insists I belong even as every bruise on my skin contradicts it. I shift on my feet, feeling exposed under its careful order.
He moves like a storm barely leashed—powerful, restless—circling the room in slow, deliberate arcs. Every time his gaze drifts to me, the air tightens, a wire pulled taut between us.
“You shouldn’t be standing,” he says at last, voice rough and low, concern threaded with something dangerous. “You’re still hurt.”
I shake my head, the motion small and stubborn. “I’ve been hurt worse.”
The words come out quieter than I intend, as if admitting it makes the wounds more real. He stops and turns. When his eyes find mine, molten amber burns beneath his lids—fierce, unblinking, like a hearth that will not be doused.
“No one should’ve touched you,” he says, voice folding into the room like a promise and a threat. “And I’ll make sure they pay for this.”
The vow lands between us, heavy and certain. For a moment the mansion’s warmth presses close, sheltering and dangerous both; for a moment I almost believe I could stay.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He crosses the room in two strides, the scent of leather and pine spilling around me. His hand lifts, hesitates, then settles against my cheek—warm, steady, unyielding.
“You do now.”
The bond thrums between us, bright and insistent, a live wire humming under my skin. It curls through my veins, tugging me toward him until my pulse stumbles, too fast, too hard.
“Why do I feel this?” I whisper, the question tearing free before I can stop it. He leans closer, voice dropping to a low growl.
“Because fate doesn’t make mistakes.” His thumb traces a line down my jaw, and the touch sends sparks racing down my spine.
My breath catches. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know your scent,” he murmurs. “I know your heartbeat.” He presses his palm lightly over my chest, right above the steady thrum. “And I know this was meant for me.”
The world tilts. My fire hums in response, golden threads flickering just beneath my skin, betraying me. He sees them—his eyes widen but he doesn’t pull back.
“You’re not just wolf,” he says softly.
“No,” I swallow. “I’m not.”
“Half dragon,” he breathes. “That’s why you burn.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it. “That’s why they cast me out.”
His jaw tightens. “Then they’re fools.” The way he says it—fierce, absolute—steals the breath from my lungs. No one’s ever looked at me like this. Like I’m not a curse. Like I’m something worth fighting for.
“Vayra.”
It’s the first time he’s said my name. It sounds like a promise. The storm outside grows louder, wind rattling the windows. His arms tighten around me, protective, possessive.
“You’re safe here,” he murmurs. “No one will ever touch you again.”
I don’t know when I start to move. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s both of us, drawn by something older than either of us understands. But suddenly, he’s close—too close. His hand slides behind my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. His forehead rests against mine. The heat between us is a living thing.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, the words rough and trembling, his breath brushing my lips.
My heart beats hard against his chest. My lips part on a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to.”
The words are enough. He closes the distance. The kiss starts soft — uncertain, searching — but the bond catches like dry tinder, and suddenly it’s fire. Heat curling low, breath mingling, the world falling away.
His hands frame my face; mine clutch at his shirt. Every heartbeat, every breath, every spark feels like coming home. A wave of longing crashes through me and it hits like an earthquake. I press closer, pulling him closer. He kisses harder, tongue pushing forward and exploring. Fire consumes me as it always has, igniting me, setting my body alight.
My body aches—so hot—and when he wraps his arms around me I lose myself in the feeling. Everything becomes sharper. More focused. My fingers tighten in his hair, pulling his mouth closer, desperate. His skin is warm where I run my palms up his neck, drawing him closer—closer—until our bodies slot together, fitting together so perfectly I can scarcely imagine life without him.
The need swells like a hurricane, drowning everything else. I drown in the taste of him—the smell of him—the sound of his heartbeat and the thud of his lips against my lips. The way his scent clings to me, a thick layer of familiarity and safety. I’m surrounded by it, tangled deep into him. His fingers trace along my ribs. A groan rips free from somewhere deep inside. I feel his answering sigh and arch, pressing into the contact like I’ll never let go.
And then the moment shatters—pain bursts through me like lightning, and it’s all I can do to gasp for air as the fire fizzles away.
"I'm hot," I whispered. "My pussy.....its so wet.....it's hard to breathe…. I need some thing… someone inside me…someone who fuck the shit out of me.....its been 23 years facing everything alone....I'm tired now."
His eyes softened, and his breath caressed my forehead as his fingers trailed from my cheeks to the back of my neck, gliding down gently towards the hump of my shoulder blades and my waistline, tracing my hips down into the cleft between my legs. His hot palms engulfed my asscheeks and inched me closer until our chests met.
I gasped as I felt the sudden blaze of need, of wanting. He smiled into my mouth, his fingers tracing higher up my spine and back to the hollow of my throat, his thumb light over my pulse point. The fire within blazed, burning louder than the voices.
"Do you want me to take you tonight, baby?" he asked.