by Rowan Bree
You stroke his cock with your hands and feet as he slides it along your body. The texture of his shaft massages your clit making your whole body tingle. You can see the underside of his hard, scaled snout and the glint of his amber eye when he looks down at you. You feel that he is going to cum.
I want it inside me, you think, not needing to speak to communicate with him.
He slides his cock off you and you spread your legs to invite the tip against your pussy. You gaze deeply into his eyes as you feel your arousal reaching a peak. Come, you tell him.
His cock spasms against your pussy and you feel his warmth flowing inside you. It fills you and flows down into the moss below you. You think you may be the only living woman who has ever lain with a dragon.
“I have another gift for you,” the dragon says once the last waves of pleasure have left your body. “I can heal the damage in your mind and restore your memories from your life before.”
Accept the dragon’s gift.
Tell him it doesn’t matter.
You accept the dragon’s gift and close your eyes. You can feel your memories stitching themselves back together, catching glimpses of dark caves, a wagon wheel, and people in dark robes before you finally remember who you are.
You see your childhood in Doria, a girl from a lowly family playing amongst the rocky caves near your home. You hear chanting and scramble over the rocks to find a circle of men in dark robes. A boy is there too, watching the men with his odd violet eyes.
Vale tells you all about the Order, how the kingdom slaughtered them though they had done nothing wrong. Your parents refuse to talk about the Order, though the members seem nice and often give you food and copper coins whenever you and Vale go to listen to them chant.
As you grow older, the Order becomes more powerful in Doria until they are as common as rain clouds in the overcast city. You come to serve the Order in their citadel in the mountains, watching as Vale rises through their ranks. You never join the Order yourself and Vale never pressures you to. He seems content to have you as a servant, calling you kitten and showing you a condescending sort of kindness while treating others with the utmost severity.
You keep to the shadows mostly. It’s where you get in the least trouble. The Order becomes bolder with its magic and begins to call on the Old Ones. Sometimes you hear shrieks and inhuman wails in the night. Young women begin to go missing. You clean the blood off Vale’s robes and scrub it from the floors, but never see what happens to the women.
You do hear things, though. Two men stand in a dark, cave-like room, with one end open to the cliff it was carved from. Torchlight dances on the walls. A faint, female moaning is coming from another part of the room but your view is obscured by the thick red curtains you are hiding behind. They hang from the high ceiling like great waterfalls of blood.
Vale is shirtless, his pale skin nearly transparent and hair damp with sweat. His chest heaves from recent physical exertion.
“The ritual failed again.”
“We’re running out of time.” His companion is fully dressed in a stiff black robe. His face is wrinkled and hardened like the shell of a walnut. “The king’s feast is coming up. I’ll need you in Tyven with the others.”
Vale clenches his fists. “I can do it. I just need a little longer.”
“Doria will run out of women before then. We will have all the time in the world to complete the ritual once the king is ours. Our Order is old. The mages have endured without their masters’ presence in this realm and will continue to do so. Such foolish pride as yours will only hurt us.”
You hear no more of the conversation as you turn away, running down the dark corridor with a desperate sense of urgency to reach the capital to warn them of the coming danger. You can’t let the Order take over Tyven. You need to stop them from killing any more people in the service of their dark gods.
Outside the sky is brilliant with stars. You run until the moon gives way to the first light of dawn, and continue running until you make it nearly to the capital. But Dorian guards find you in the forest and capture you. You find yourself shackled in a convoy heading back to your homeland to be tried for treason.
Your convoy is stopped by a man with brilliant green eyes and a charming grin. He seems to be alone. He stands in the middle of the road blocking the path of the wagons. He tells them to surrender you or face death. The Dorian guards laugh at him, only to find themselves ambushed. You fear for your life, not knowing if these attackers are bandits or worse. The man with the green eyes climbs onto your wagon. He frees you of your chains and tells you he’s fighting the Order just like you.
The prison convoy flees before all their men are slaughtered. You fall off the back of the wagon and hit your head. Before you lose consciousness you feel someone slip something into your pocket. It must be the note you found when you awoke.
You open your eyes to see the dragon watching you. You ask him why you were never told who you were by the people who knew.
That I do not know, the dragon tells you. Do you regret knowing?
“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. Whoever you were is long gone. The world you knew is gone too. The world is now filled with beasts and creatures of the night. So what if you never saved Tyven? Aren’t things better this way? You’ve become so much more than a traitor from Doria, a servant girl to the mages. You are the mate of the first dragon to rule in ages and your reign is about to begin.
Epilogue.
“It doesn’t matter,” you tell him, letting your voice break the silence of the night. Whoever you were is long gone. The world you knew is gone too. The world is now filled with beasts and creatures of the night. What value could knowing your old life possibly have? You have left it behind to become so much more. Your reign is about to begin.
Epilogue.
You may have thought you didn’t need Vale, but seeing him again made you weak. You take the collar in your hands and turn on the dragon, clamping it around his neck before he can move away.
The dragon roars out in a rage, threatening to burn you both with his flame. But no fire comes forth.
Vale pats his snout. “Good boy,” he taunts.
You can feel the rage emanating from the beast but he says nothing. Perhaps the collar has rendered him voiceless.
Vale takes your hand in his gloved one. His violet eyes glimmer in the candlelight. “You will be my queen, kitten. And the world will be ours.”
Epilogue.
You grasp the collar and go to Vale, ignoring his pleas for you to reconsider. He seems unable to move as you lift the metal to his neck and close it around him. He staggers to his knees, his head drooping as he clutches at the collar.
“Please mistress, be merciful,” he says quietly. His silvery hair obscures his face, but you can hear tears in his voice.
You look past him to the room filled with nobles and members of the Order. The fall to their knees, submitting themselves to your rule. A man wearing a crown steps forward and kneels. He places his crown at your feet.
You can feel the dragon’s will guiding your hand. You pick up the crown and walk to the balcony. You hurl the circle of gold and jewels into the night. Your reign is about to begin.
Epilogue.
You approach the crowd of women surrounding the bare-chested man.
One of the women wrestles the wine carafe from a serving girl and refills the handsome man’s goblet. “Why don’t you come visit Hilfair sometime? We’re known for our rolling hills, deep valleys, and moist caves.”
You throw up a bit in your mouth.
“I prefer the sea myself,” the man replies politely. “It offers me the solitude I can’t find on land.”
The woman doesn’t seem to take the hint. “But surely a prince needs a princess,” she replies. “It would be a waste for a man like you to deprive yourself of a woman’s touch.” Her hand rests on his chest.
The man looks out towards the hall as if search
ing for a way out. His eyes catch yours.
“I’ve already met my princess,” he says extracting him from the touchy women. “And it looks like she’s just arrived.”
He makes his way towards you as the women look on in shock. When he gets close he says to you in a small voice, “I’m sorry to put you on the spot. Do you mind getting me out of here?”
You nod and the two of you move away from the table. When you’re fully out of earshot you ask him who he is.
“I’m Hawke, chief of the sea tribes. I usually avoid these kinds of affairs, but I was told the king had a big announcement to make tonight and I don’t like hearing news secondhand.”
A chief, you think. Maybe he could help you escape. A tingle of pain runs through your body, warning you against even thinking about it.
Ignore the pain and ask him to help you.
Invite him to the party before the pain gets any worse.
You approach the crowd of women surrounding the bare-chested man.
One of the women wrestles the wine carafe from a serving girl and refills the handsome man’s goblet. “Why don’t you come visit Hilfair sometime? We’re known for our rolling hills, deep valleys, and moist caves.”
You throw up a bit in your mouth.
“I prefer the sea myself,” the man replies politely. “It offers me the solitude I can’t find on land.”
The woman doesn’t seem to take the hint. “But surely a prince needs a princess,” she replies. “It would be a waste for a man like you to deprive yourself of a woman’s touch.” Her hand rests on his chest.
The man looks out towards the hall as if searching for a way out. His eyes catch yours.
“I’ve already met my princess,” he says extracting him from the touchy women. “And it looks like she’s just arrived.”
He makes his way towards you as the women look on in shock. When he gets close he says to you in a small voice, “I’m sorry to put you on the spot. Do you mind getting me out of here?”
You nod and the two of you move away from the table. When you’re fully out of earshot you ask him who he is.
“I’m Hawke, chief of the sea tribes. I usually avoid these kinds of affairs, but I was told the king had a big announcement to make tonight and I don’t like hearing news secondhand.”
A chief, you think. Maybe he could help you escape. A tingle of pain runs through your body, warning you against even thinking about it.
Ignore the pain and ask him to help you.
Invite him to the party before the pain gets any worse.
You decide to escape on your own, ignoring the tingling pain through your limbs at the mere thought of disobeying Vale.
You fixate on one of the guests near the entrance, pretending that you are going to try to recruit him. It does a little to keep back the pain, but your deception is not perfect. You can feel the tendrils of Vale’s control creeping through your nerves, making your movements clumsy and warning you of the agony that is yet to come.
You make it to the entrance as a stab of pain shoots through you. You stumble against a tall mountain elf who asks you if you are okay. You mutter a reply back, pushing yourself off of him and staggering out into the castle’s entryway. To your left is the grand staircase leading up into the castle. To your right are the castle’s gates, barred closed against monsters and manned by two guards. You hope they will let you out.
You will your body to cooperate, taking step by agonizing step towards the gate. Vale’s magic is threatening to overwhelm you. The pain alone is crippling, but you can also feel his will trying to exert itself over your actions.
“Watch out!” one of the guards yells, and you feel something large land on your back. It’s muggy warmth makes your skin crawl as it humps against you, its many arms clinging to you. It’s the spider-goblin from earlier tonight. It trips you and starts dragging you backwards away from the gate.
One of the guards moves to help you but the other holds him back. You feel paralyzed from Vale’s magic and can only watch as the gate grows farther away. The spider-goblin drags you through a narrow doorway into a dusty side passage.
The spider-goblin tears at your dress. Its unholy appendage bumps against the bare skin of your back. You see someone run past the doorway, a woman in a gold and black dress. If you scream now she might help you. But she is also an agent of the Order.
Scream.
Don’t scream.
You decide to escape on your own, ignoring the tingling pain through your limbs at the mere thought of disobeying Vale.
You fixate on one of the guests near the entrance, pretending that you are going to try to recruit him. It does a little to keep back the pain, but your deception is not perfect. You can feel the tendrils of Vale’s control creeping through your nerves, making your movements clumsy and warning you of the agony that is yet to come.
You make it to the entrance as a stab of pain shoots through you. You stumble against a tall mountain elf who asks you if you are okay. You mutter a reply back, pushing yourself off of him and staggering out into the castle’s entryway. To your left is the grand staircase leading up into the castle. To your right are the castle’s gates, barred closed against monsters and manned by two guards. You hope they will let you out.
You will your body to cooperate, taking step by agonizing step towards the gate. Vale’s magic is threatening to overwhelm you. The pain alone is crippling, but you can also feel his will trying to exert itself over your actions.
“Watch out!” one of the guards yells, and you feel something large land on your back. It’s muggy warmth makes your skin crawl as it humps against you, its many arms clinging to you. It’s the spider-goblin from earlier tonight. It trips you and starts dragging you backwards away from the gate.
One of the guards moves to help you but the other holds him back. You feel paralyzed from Vale’s magic and can only watch as the gate grows farther away. The spider-goblin drags you through a narrow doorway into a dusty side passage.
The spider-goblin tears at your dress. Its unholy appendage bumps against the bare skin of your back. You see someone run past the doorway, a woman in a gold and black dress. If you scream now she might help you. But she is also an agent of the Order.
Scream.
Don’t scream.
“I want it,” you whisper.
The demon pulls aside your cloak, the odd cut of the dress leaving your backside exposed. You brace your hands against the lip of the fountain, catching the Old One’s gaze in the water’s reflection as he enters you.
You are hypnotized and unable to look away. You feel like he can see through you to your core, to that part of you that has been consumed by the darkness. That is the part of you he owns, you realize. Vale may be your forceful keeper, but the goat-horned creature is your master. Your soul is his forever whether you like it or not.
“You can feel it, can’t you,” the beast says as his hands cup your breasts.
You feel it surging inside you, whatever power was given to you through the ritual with Vale.
“Accept it,” he says. “Let it burst forth from your body and wash over this new world.”
You want to do as your master says, but you don’t yet know how to wield your power. It smolders just underneath the surface of your skin. You feel like you are melting into your master as you find release together.
You can hear a deep purring sound in his chest as he pulls out.
“When you unlock your power I will find you,” he says. “And then you will truly be mine.”
He stalks off into the trees, his hoofs leaving deep depressions in the earth. After a while you hear a distant scream and a bellow. The Old One has resumed his hunting.
Vale rushes into the clearing, face sweaty and even paler than usual. “I thought that scream was yours,” he says.
“And you were worried?” you ask, not masking the resentment in your voice. If the demon was telling the truth, it won’t be l
ong before he is the one doing your bidding.
Vale ignores you. “Don’t wander. Now come along.”
You feel a sting of pain in your legs and follow the mage.
To the feast…
Guests are streaming into the great hall as you enter the feast on Vale’s arm. Your upper arm aches where he is tightly grasping you, as if forgetting that his magic keeps you bound to him regardless. You ignore the feeling of Sybil’s jealous eyes boring into your back.
You are wearing a fine dress of midnight blue with black lace, and a necklace bearing a blood red stone. Vale says it is for your protection but you are not so sure. Try as you might, you are unable to undo the clasp and must wear it until Vale deems it fit to take it off you.
“That’s the prince of Ollvyn.” Vale points out a serious man with dark curly hair. “He is a friend of ours. I’ve been working on him all week. He has already allied his lands to ours, and finds the changes we’ve brought to the realm most welcoming.”
There is a commotion at the front doors opposite the great hall. The guards are furiously trying to block the entrance while onlookers watch in mixed horror and disgust.
“Please let me in! I have an invitation! The king is expecting me!” Through a break in the crowd you see a horribly disfigured woman being driven back by the points of the guards’ swords. There is a large, writhing lump on her back with protrusions that wrap around to the front of her body. The guards poke at one of the protrusions and it extends towards them, then the whole lump detaches. You realize that it wasn’t a disfigurement at all but a separate entity. The creature looks like a mix between a spider and a goblin, humanoid in shape but with too many limbs. It challenges the guards with a hiss.