#man becomes wholly untethered in that next chapter

[separatist-apologist]

A Mythical Thing

I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans.

Summary: A creature of scales and shadows lurks just beyond the woods. Watching.

Waiting.

For a priestess bathed in light and the shimmering bond that tethers them together.

A moment of impulsivity drives them together, wrapping them in fates golden ribbon.

Azriel will do anything to make her his.

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

CW: Dragon monster (more like shifter); past mentions of SA; human men.

Gwyn woke to the feeling of Azriel’s tongue on her neck. It wasn’t quite morning given the lack of light coming through the window, which meant it wasn’t time to get started for the day. She suspected he’d planned this moment exactly right, that he’d calculated in his mind exactly how much time he’d be allotted in bed with her. 

He was still unclothed and Gwyn hoped he stayed that way more often given how utterly magnificent he was. Her first true man—or male, whatever—and Gwyn was pleased by how much she liked the sight of him. There had always been the worry in the back of her mind that maybe she’d just never enjoy sex again. A silly thing, given priestesses were forced to abstain.

They hadn’t had sex, of course.

But she wanted to.

Oh, how Gwyn was looking forward to it as his mouth continued its hot slide over her sensitive skin. She was overdressed, she thought ruefully and felt a little embarrassed at the thought of just pulling her clothes off. Still, Azriel’s mouth ended at the neckline of her dress with a soft huff of air.

“Pleasant dreams?” he whispered, sucking at her skin softly. She squirmed, no longer able to pretend she was asleep.

“Of you,” she admitted. That had been true, at least. He was wholly responsible for the throbbing ache between her legs. 

He hummed his approval, his tongue running back up her neck. “I know.”

“How?” she demanded, fully intending to call him out. Azriel’s smile was sleepy—beautiful, too, by all accounts.

“I could smell your arousal. Who else would provoke such a—”

“You can what?!” 

He only chuckled, kissing her softly. “I can scent your fear, too. It’s the benefit of being like me. Heightened senses, dragon form…a pretty mate.” 

“Seems a little gross,” she whispered, just in time for another kiss. Azriel hovered over her, brushing hair off her face.

“It was in the barracks,” he admitted. “But with you…you smell nice, even when you dream of me. Tell me what I was doing.”

“Why?” she asked him, breathless as his hand slid over her clad torso looking for the hem of her night dress. 

“I want to please you half as well as you’ve pleased me,” he replied, his words hot against her jaw. She didn’t stop him, letting him pull up her dress beneath the blanket so her lower body was exposed to his fingers.

“I…” she whispered, arching without meaning to when he brushed just beneath her cunt. He left the blanket where it was despite his obvious interest. She appreciated that, still weirdly self-conscious over the whole thing. She supposed that was just part of a good first time–maybe she would have always been nervous and shy. 

They both exhaled in time when he found that slick bundle of nerves. Gwyn couldn’t help her reaction, rolling into the touch. 

“You like that?” he whispered, kissing before she could answer. His mouth only made the rubbing feel better, combining sensations until she was panting against his tongue and gripping his muscular shoulders. His touch was slow and unhurried which made her feel needier by comparison. She wanted him to move quicker, to give in to the instinctual demands her body was making. 

Gwyn panted into his mouth, grinding against his hand until Azriel took the hint and began rubbing faster circles with the calloused pad of his finger. She moaned what she thought was an embarrassing sound until the man—male, whatever—beside her began rubbing his lower body against the sheets. He was aroused too, she realized. Touching her was doing something for him, too. That knowledge left her breathless with wonder. She raked her nails through his thick, dark hair, back arched as Azriel continued stroking. She was so punishingly close, so desperate to finish that Gwyn whined, all but begging him to let her.

His quick, efficient circles were enough. Her whole body went taunt and loose, muscles locking as that first shockwave slammed through her. She broke the messy kissing, bowing off the bed while he continued, determined to ride her through it. Only when pleasure began edging into over-sensitive pain did Gwyn push his hand away, still working to catch her breath.

Azriel kept his forehead pressed against her temple, caressing her jaw with the hand that hadn't been between her thighs. 

“Was that good for you?” he asked her, peppering her cheek with soft kisses. Gwyn could only nod. Words failed her in that moment–even the world itself felt as if it ought to be different somehow. Not that she was changed, but maybe Azriel was altering her somehow. She tilted her head, lips pressed to his for a soft kiss. 

“Again?” she asked him hopefully. He groaned, burying his face in her shoulder before pushing off the bed. His cock was just as big, just as thick as she remembered and practically purple with need. 

“We have business in town,” he reminded her. “I can wait.”

“You don’t look like you can wait,” she said reasonably. Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut, like he was on the very edge of his restraint. 

“I can wait,” he repeated, shoving himself into his pants. That was the final word on the matter though Gwyn had a million questions about it. His cock looked like it was in pain. She opened her mouth to ask him if that was true and Azriel, catching sight of her face, headed her off.

“I can wait, sweet mate. Get dressed,” he added with a half smile. 

Gwyn scrambled out of bed, grabbing one of the buttoned down dresses folded neatly beside his things. Azriel left the room to offer her privacy. Gwyn slipped on the amethyst colored gown, practically vibrating with excitement. Before Azriel, she’d only ever seen two places in her entire life—the village she was born in and the temple. Now she’d seen the Illyrian mountains and she’d see the town Azriel clearly lived just outside of.

Leaving her hair unbound, Gwyn thundered down the steps, hoping he wouldn’t mind that she didn’t have it in her to butcher breakfast again. He was waiting just at the bottom, catching her when she all but crashed into the solid mass of his body. Leaning up on her tiptoes, Gwyn pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Azriel flushed. “Happy?” he asked, his voice a near purring rumble.

“Yes,” she agreed, still thinking about this new adventure. “I have a question.”

Azriel reached behind him for her cloak. “I have an answer.”

“Could we go anywhere?” she asked, ignoring how he was all but dressing her for the cold. 

He frowned and Gwyn was certain he was going to tell her no. That she had to stay so he could keep her safe, that the world was too big and ugly for her. The priestesses in the temple had said so for years. She thought it would hurt infinitely worse to hear those words come out of Azriel’s mouth.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked instead. Gwyn gaped, stilling long enough for Azriel to jam a hat on her head. Gwyn blinked.

“I don’t know…anywhere, I guess?”

Azriel frowned. “The world is big. While we’re out, we’ll get a map and you can pick a place to visit.”

“And you’ll take me?” she breathed, heart pounding in her throat. Azriel seemed confused, offering up gloves. 

“Let’s pick a place, first,” he murmured, nodding for her to put them on. Gwyn did, bouncing from heel to heel with excitement.

“But we’ll go? If we get a map and I pick a place, we’ll go? Together?”

Azriel huffed, clearly exasperated. “I’m not going to send you alone. Of course we’ll go together.”

Musing to herself while Azriel turned his back for the door, she murmured, “Maybe after we’re married—or mated. That’s how it’s done, right? A honeymoon?”

Azriel was utterly stiff in front of her, expression unreadable given he was facing away from her. She heard him clear his throat and when he turned to look over his shoulder, Gwyn thought he looked just as he had when she’d been slowly exploring his frame. Azriel only nodded.

“Whenever you like, my mate,” he murmured, reaching out his hand to caress the little bit of her face that was still visible through the layers of clothing. “Today, we go to town, though.” Gwyn smiled.

“Town it is. Lead the way, Az.”

AZRIEL: 

He couldn’t help his swaggering when they arrived in the village. Gwyn wanted to accept their bond after only a few days together. He was preening when they landed, silent and smirking at the other males all watching jealously. It was one thing when Lucien had come with a female—he was wild, hardly one of them. Perhaps it was pure luck for Lucien.

Not for Azriel. Now it was real. Cassian watched the whole thing with an uncomfortable expression. Not out of fear for Gwyn. They both knew not one dragon was willing to go up against Azriel for his female. Not if they valued their life, at any rate.

It was for the rest of the human females lurking below, unaware of what was lurking below. Cassian gestured for the pair to follow him, waiting in the square where more than a few watched with eager fascination. Gwyn, too, was staring right back, her teal eyes wide and curious. Azriel set a scarred hand on her shoulder and led her over the dark cobblestone streets towards Cassian’s home a mere block down. 

Gwyn began pulling off her scarf and hat, her cheeks just as flushed as they’d been when he’d had his hand between her legs. Maybe taking her out was a mistake. The others would see how beautiful she was, would—

Cassian cleared his throat. “You should send her down to Emeries shop,” he said. It wasn’t really a request. Azriel sighed, fishing in his pockets for coins. Emerie was expensive. 

“A girl?” Gwyn asked him, lips parted. He wanted to kiss her so badly he knew it was making him look stupid in front of his best friend and brother. “I thought—”

“There are a few,” Cassian interrupted, earning a soft growl from Azriel. Cassian brushed it off, though Azriel wondered how he’d like it if another male interrupted his female. How did Cassian stand it, knowing she was down with the humans when she should be with him? Azriel thought he’d have lived just outside Gwyn’s home, if only to keep an eye on her day and night.

“Does she have a mate?”

Azriel and Cassian both laughed without meaning to. Emerie, who preferred the company of females to males, was in the same predicament as the rest of them. With precious few full-blooded dragons left, she was left alone like the rest of them. 

“No mate,” Azriel told her, deciding Emerie could be the one to tell Gwyn her preferences if she liked. 

“That doesn’t bother the males?” she continued. Cassian went so rigid.

“They have no say,” Azriel murmured gently. She would learn. All the humans who came to live among them would acclimate and learn. More and more, Azriel wished Cassian had been onboard with slaughtering every human male and just restarting with what they already had. 

“I’ll take her over,” Azriel added, wanting another moment alone with Gwyn before Cassian dumped whatever pressing problem he needed to discuss in Azriel’s lap. Cassian nodded, letting Az lead Gwyn back into the bright, sunny morning. The snow had been cleared from the streets and surrounding parks, letting the lovely grass that grew sway in a chilly breeze. He let himself view his home through new eyes, Rows upon rows of vibrantly colored homes with pointed black rooftops were lined against the sloping mountainside, broken by a grid of streets carefully laid centuries before. Shops with red and blue awnings invited people inside, laying their wares along open glass windows. People milled about far less bundled than Gwyn which allowed their blue and purple and red scales to glimmer in the sunlight. Azriel recalled that ribbon of gold around Elain Archeron’s neck—what would his scales look like imprinted on Gwyn? 

It made him tight just thinking about it. 

He pushed open the cheerful yellow door of Emerie’s shop, their presence marked by a jangling bell just overhead. Emerie sold clothing, something Gwyn might like given Azriel had been picking it out for her and had no idea what females really liked to wear. The female herself was waiting at the counter with wide brown eyes.

Emerie watched him lead Gwyn in, the iridescent white of her scales catching in the sunlight. Set against the lovely brown of her skin, Emerie was probably the most beautiful female their kind had ever produced. Dark hair was set in a simple braid trailing over her shoulder, her full mouth parted with surprise. 

“I’d heard, but…” she breathed, just as excited as everyone else. A human female mated to one of them meant they might all have mates. “I’m Emerie.”

Gwyn, sweet as she was, bounded forward. “Gwyn.”

“I need to speak with Cassian. You’ll let her pick some things out?”

Emerie looked him up and down. “Put it on your tab?” she asked, eyebrow arched. As if Azriel had ever ordered more than a pair of pants at a time. 

“Whatever she likes,” he dismissed. “I’ll be back in an hour or less.”

“What’s your rush?” Emerie asked him with a knowing smile. Azriel was well aware his need was likely rolling off him in waves and any dragon in a fifty mile radius could likely scent it. Gwyn, lovely as she was, was utterly oblivious. Azriel had been lying when he told her he could wait that morning. His erection was just carefully rearranged so no one could see it. He had hoped, foolishly in retrospect, that the cold might temper the heat racing in his veins.

He said nothing else to Emerie. He merely ran his knuckles over Gwyn’s cheek before returning outdoors to speak with Cassian. 

“How are things going?” Cassian asked the moment Azriel snapped the door closed. 

“Good,” he all but gloated. 

“Is she going to accept the bond?”

Azriel was preening as he said, “Yes. She said as much this morning.”

Cassian ran a hand over his mouth, dropping into one of his leather chairs. “We need rules before there are a flood of males in the villages. The humans are already nervous after the fight. They’ll be looking for any excuse to retaliate.”

Azriel stared pointedly. Cassian knew his opinion on things. How many times did the humans get to threaten to exterminate them before enough was enough? Cassian would never agree and Azriel would do as Cassian asked, both out of loyalty and hierarchy. Cassian was their leader, their general, and hadn’t abandoned them when even their king went silent. 

“I’m bringing Nesta up tomorrow,” Cassian told him softly, interrupting Azriel’s fantasy of killing the males and ending their violence once and for all. 

“Oh?” Azriel didn’t know a thing about her.

“Her sisters are gone and I don’t like her alone in that house. You’ll bring Gwyn down so she has company?” 

It was both a question and a command. “She dislikes yours?”

“I’m busy,” Cassian said with a sigh. “And she is…nervous. Having a friend would help ease some of her fears and honestly, would probably be good for every new female that comes to live up here.”

“Is she nice?” Azriel asked. Cassian shifted.

“Nice has nothing to do with her,” he finally said. “It’s not negotiable. You’ll let her spend time with Gwyn…Emerie too, if she likes. It will do them all some good and you can go back to training new recruits.”

Azriel couldn’t hide his displeasure. All things he’d once enjoyed so much, now seemed dull in comparison to the female who’d been in his bed the night before. He still had the rest of his day, and likely the next given Cassian would be consumed with settling his own mate in and making her feel comfortable and safe. 

Azriel offered a nod and nothing else. It was enough to pacify Cassian, at least, who blew out a breath and gestured for Azriel to sit. “Help me draft up a treaty between us and the humans.” As if the humans would honor it. Still, Azriel sat and did what his friend did. Cassian had hope for the future, for a world in which they could mingle among each other.

And Azriel believed in Cassian, if nothing else.

GWYN:

“So,” Gwyn began once the door slammed shut behind Azriel. 

Emerie smiled. “Go ahead.”

“You’re a lady dragon,” Gwyn immediately gushed, crossing the wood floor for the sleek glass counter Emerie stood behind. “I thought there were only men.”

“Mostly,” she agreed. “But some of us survived and others were born after the conflict.”

“Which one were you?” she asked breathlessly as Emerie began pulling out bolts of fabric. 

“Born,” she said easily. “And before you ask, no mate.”

“I wasn’t going to. I don’t think women live and die around men,” Gwyn replied, earning another easy smile from the pretty Emerie. “Is this your shop?”

Emerie nodded. “All mine. Inherited it from my father, the bastard.”

“Women can’t inherit things where I’m from,” Gwyn murmured, running her fingers over the glass. 

Emerie leaned forward, dark eyes glimmering with interest. “Really?”

Gwyn nodded. 

“So how do women make a living?”

“Their husbands or fathers oversee everything,” Gwyn said, thinking of her own missing father. “Or, if the village is really small, all the men sort of look after someone.”

“And that works?” Emerie asked skeptically. “In my experience, males don’t understand females very well.”

“Sometimes,” Gwyn conceded, not willing to share just how badly it had gone for her. “It depends on the man.”

“And you’re mates with Azriel?” Emerie clarified, gesturing for Gwyn to pick a piece of fabric. She was partial to the cerulean blue, not in part because it reminded her of Azriel’s scales. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Gwyn asked, thinking of just how little she knew about him.

“There are worse males,” Emerie conceded. “Better ones, too, but not by much. He is wholly decent if not a little violent.”

“Maybe I like a little violence,” Gwyn replied with a smile. Emerie slid the rest of the fabric beneath the counter with a matching grin.

“Then you’ll fit in just fine up here. We all like a little violence now and again.”

“He’s teaching me how to fight.”

Emerie’s brows raised skyward. “Is he teaching a class?”

Gwyn perked up. “I could ask. You want to learn to fight?”

“Because there are so few females,” Emerie began, pulling out a cloth measuring tape and wrapping it around Gwyn’s waist, “The males get nervous about any of us joining them as soldiers. We used to. There was a whole unit of us. We can’t join if no one will teach us.”

“I could ask,” Gwyn said, wanting so badly for a friend that she would have done anything in that moment if it meant Emerie kept smiling at her like she actually liked her. Gwyn had struggled in the temple to make friends, in part because of how she’d arrived. 

Temptress.

What did they say about her now? Did they even know? Or did they think she’d just vanished. It had been a lonely existence for Gwyn, desperate for even one person she could confide in and constantly being met with walls of stone and sneering faces. 

Catrin would have liked Emerie, she thought. 

Catrin would have liked Azriel, too.

“You should know,” Emerie began, jotting down each new measurement as she obtained them, “That a male can’t tell his mate no.”

“Oh. So then he’ll definitely agree,” Gwyn smiled, missing the innuendo in Emerie’s voice. She caught it when Emerie raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Oh.”

“He’ll have to ask Cassian,” Emerie said. “He gets the final say.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Gwyn said with a smile, wondering if what she’d done the night before would be enough to sway Azriel’s opinion. 

The conversations shifted into other things—Emerie gave Gwyn a rundown of her people and the city while Gwyn told Emerie, maybe foolishly, about her sister and how badly she wanted to go back and visit her grave. It was too much to put on a brand new friend and yet Emerie had cast some spell over her shop that made it easy to tell her how she felt. Maybe Emerie was offering her kindness with no expectation of anything in return.

And it wasn’t as if Emerie didn’t reciprocate. She told Gwyn all about her cruel father and how relieved she’d been when he’d died. How he’d threatened to marry her off, mate or not, and how his death had spared Emerie from a terrible marriage to a cousin she loathed. Gwyn wasn’t the only one who craved connection.

Azriel came too soon, his hazel eyes dark and openly frustrated. His posture was a far cry from who he’d been that morning. Gwyn swore she’d be back–and soon–and then she was back on Azriel’s terrifying scaled back. There was no possibility in which she fell and yet flying among the clouds, so that the city and everything in it was lost would take a little getting used to. 

It was freedom like she’d never imagined. Gwyn was jealous of Azriel and his wings, though she would never have admitted it. 

“How did things go with Cassian?” she asked once they’d landed. Azriel licked his lips, a heavy bag slung over his shoulder. 

“The humans are restless,” he said, letting her back into the warmth of his home. “We finished the treaty. I made sure to incorporate your suggestions.”

Gwyn began peeling the layers of clothing off her body. “You’re so sweet.”

Moody, frustrated Azriel looked at her, practically beaming at her praise. He hefted his bag towards the little, rounded dining table, and began pulling things out. Things for her, along with an assortment of ingredients he clearly meant to use for cooking. Gwyn picked up the little stack of silver rings, each holding a pretty blue star that clearly formed a neat little row of them once worn with awe.

Sliding them over her middle finger, Gwyn also grabbed the rolled up map. While Azriel continued unpacking in the kitchen, she went up to the bedroom and tacked it to the wall opposite the bed. The world, she realized, was huge. No wonder Azriel had been so confused when she asked if they could leave. Leave and go where? They were only one of four continents, separated by vast tracts of ocean. 

Gwyn ran her fingers over the smooth paper, finding her village among the trees. On the map, it hardly seemed far at all from where she was now, hidden atop the mountains. As she stared, Azriel came in quietly, clasping a little necklace around her neck before she could stop him. 

“Did you have a nice day?” he asked, letting her finger the teardrop shaped blue gem now settled against the hollow of her throat.

“I liked Emerie a lot,” she admitted, as if it were some great secret. “I told her you were training me.”

“Oh?” he replied, cocking his head to the side as he cupped her face in his calloused hand.

“Will you train her, too?” Gwyn asked softly, thinking about what Emerie said. She made her eyes big and hopeful and wide, though she wasn’t above kissing him on the mouth, too, if he needed a little more coaxing.

Azriel, as it turned out, required none at all. “If that’s what you want.”

And Gwyn, as it turned out, was far too willing to kiss him even if he gave her exactly what she wanted. She leaned up on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his own. Azriel caught her around the waist, holding her against his body to keep her from pulling away too quickly.

“I was going to make dinner,” he told her, his breath fanning against her face. “But maybe you’ll indulge me for a different sort of meal?”

“What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly, her body igniting beneath his touch. Azriel kissed again, slower this time. Languid and soft, his tongue meeting hers to stroke over and over until Gwyn was dizzy with desire. 

“I’d like to taste you,” he murmured, that hand sliding down her neck. Gwyn shivered without meaning to, unsure exactly what he meant. Azriel’s fingers found the buttons of her dress, deftly undoing them one by one until she was exposed to the cool evening air. Azriel sucked in a soft breath, unaware of how her heart was banging up against her ribs. She’d never been so naked before and certainly not pinned beneath a man’s hungry gaze.

Azriel ran a hand over her stomach, his rough hands catching against her soft skin. Sliding them upwards, Gwyn was certain she didn’t breathe a single breath when he cupped her breast. 

“You…” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. “You’re perfect.”

Gwyn couldn’t speak, terrified of breaking the spell. She also couldn’t abide by being the only one naked, either. Gwyn tugged at his tunic, mildly disappointed when took his hands off her to remove his top. He was so handsome. She couldn’t get over how lovely the brown of his skin was against the blue of his scales. While Az removed his pants with trembling fingers, Gwyn continued touching, marveling at how soft he was, despite all the chiseled, corded muscle. If anyone was perfect, it was Azriel.

She swallowed hard at the sight of him, of his erect cock pressed against her thigh. Gwyn was tempted to ask him to put it inside her, to skip all the things she suspected he planned to do to build them up and skip right to the end. She wanted to replace the old memories with ones filled with soft, lovely pleasure. 

“You’re beautiful,” she told him, unable to remember if she’d said it before. Azriel’s whole expression cracked, that quiet, sternness shifting into open wonder. He smiled and gods, Gwyn thought that he was absolution in that moment. The priestesses had it all wrong—he was the only thing worth worshiping. 

“Do you trust me?” he asked her, mouth ghosting over her own.

With her life. “Yes,” she agreed.”

Azriel cupped her face. “Then lay back for me.”

Gwyn was all too happy to oblige.

AZRIEL:

Gwyn was easily the most beautiful creature Azriel had ever seen in his entire life. Laying atop his bed, her hair an auburn halo around her gorgeous face, Azriel couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. He felt strangely holy in that moment, gazing upon her, as if centuries of being bathed in blood had suddenly been washed away. He was made anew, blessed in whatever light emanated from beneath her skin.

He needed to touch her. Taste her. 

Reminding himself that all he needed to do was breathe, Azriel prowled towards the bed. Teal eyes followed his every move, wide and dark with unmistakable lust. She wanted him, too. Azriel exhaled, sitting on the side of the bed so he could touch her like she’d done him the night before. 

Every inch of her was fair, unblemished skin. She was dotted with freckles that he swore matched the constellations in the night sky. How often had Azriel stared up at them, lonely and exhausted. Wishing for her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered when his hand wrapped itself gently around her neck. Azriel stroked the column of flesh before continuing his descent downwards.

“Touching,” he replied, climbing very carefully over her body. He pushed his thigh to push apart her legs, settling just between them. His cock jumped, excited at the prospect of being inside her. Azriel ignored it like he had before in favor of lowering his mouth to her skin, replacing his mouth with his tongue. 

Her skin was sweet and salty. He exhaled against it, licking over her collarbone for that first taste. She squirmed beneath him, legs parted so she was grinding against his thigh without even meaning to. He could feel the heat from her cunt seep against him. His cock twitched again, weeping fluid into the blanket. Azriel ignored, though it was almost painful to do so. This was about her—he could handle himself in the bathroom later. 

Maybe she’ll touch you again.

He wanted that, though he wouldn’t dare admit it. Not yet, anyway. 

Azriel captured one of her rosy nipples in his mouth, sliding his tongue against the petal soft skin. Gwyn moaned, arching against his leg again. He couldn’t take his eyes off her parted lips, her half-lidded eyes and when she carded her fingers through his hair, Azriel almost threw himself across the room to keep from fucking her into oblivion.

He could do this, he panted. Azriel swapped sides, using his hand to continue his soft tugging on the nipple, still damp from his mouth. Gwyn was writhing beneath him, dragging wet heat over his skin. He could have stayed there for the rest of the night, kneading the soft flesh of her breasts until the sun broke over the horizon.

But the scent of her arousal was wafting through the air, wrapping itself like a ribbon around his neck. Azriel had never been so drawn to anything in his life. He needed to bury his nose in it, needed to touch, to taste. Azriel kissed his way down her stomach, pausing to press his nose in the soft thatch of red curls just above her cunt.

Gwyn squirmed again, her legs rising upwards. He reached for them, draping her knees over his shoulders so he could look at her spread open beneath him. Was it possible for one female to be pretty everywhere? 

“Az—”

“Lovely,” he interrupted, looking up at her. Gwyn was watching, propped up on a stack of pillows. She slid her fingers through his hair again, nails scraping over his scalp. 

“I’m going to put my mouth on you,” he rasped, just barely managing to get the words out. “I need to taste you.”

He waited to see if she’d tell him no or push him away, running his hands up and down her thighs. Up and down, up and down, until Gwyn released a shuddering breath and laid her head back. Still watching, still curious.

His mate. 

Azriel lowered his face slowly, half drunk on the scent of her. Musky and sweet, he drank it in, letting himself indulge for just a moment. That was all he could stand before he took that first taste, placing his tongue against her clit like he’d done with his fingers just that morning.

Gwyn’s whole body bowed off the bed, a soft oh escaping from her lips. He didn’t stop, watching her every minute expression just to be sure she was still enjoying herself. 

Her fingers returned to his hair, tugging at the strands. She wanted more and Azriel was all too happy to give it to her. Azriel licked at that sensitive pearl of flesh until Gwyn was all but grinding against his face, coating him in her slick arousal. Azriel reveled in the mess, delighting in the tangible proof that his mate was pleased by him.

He was practically fucking the sheets beneath them, hips bucking of their own accord. Each new drag of his tongue made him more desperate, until Azriel couldn’t stop himself. He slid one of his fingers into her body, more curious than anything. 

“Az!” she whined, eyes fluttering shut. He started to pull out but Gwyn locked her legs around his face, keeping him where he was. He worked in a second, half mad at the hot, silken grip of her body. He could feel that phantom touch against his cock like a brand, urging him to pump his fingers in and out of her, to work her with both his hand and mouth until she was writhing and pleading.

“Don’t stop,” she begged him, her voice a high pitched whine. Azriel would have to have been dragged away with a knife against his throat in order to pull him off her. Each new thrust of his fingers drew forth more of her sweet arousal that he lapped up, circling her clit with his tongue until they were both all but falling apart. 

Gwyn came with a broken cry Azriel wouldn’t forget if he lived a thousand more years. He didn’t stop, mesmerized by how wet she became, by the way her cunt clamped around his fingers, convulsing in waves. He could feel her erratic heart beat in the walls of her body, pounding wildly. He wanted more of it, was disappointed she’d finished. Gwyn used her foot to push at his chest, pulling him off her. Sharp nails dragged over his biceps, pulling him upwards for a messy kiss. Did she like the way she tasted, too?

Too consumed in stroking his tongue against her own, Azriel didn’t realize she’d wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging in the small of his back. His cock slotted against her soaked cunt, and it was only his locking knees that kept him from plunging into her with one fluid stroke.

He broke the kiss to stroke her hair, staring down at her. “Are you asking me to fuck you, mate?”

She whimpered, nodding her head up and down. “Slowly,” she added, as if it needed to be said. 

Raising himself up on his elbows, Azriel looked down between their bodies and carefully pushed that first inch.

“Oh,” she whispered when he groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. He had to breathe or he’d lose himself entirely. She’d asked for slow but instinct was riding him hard, begging him to claim her. Already, Azriel could feel the fangs in his mouth lengthen, that pooling venom readying itself to make the change. 

Not tonight. Not yet. 

She held him, nails digging in his back while Azriel continued, pushing in and pulling out to get her used to the motion, the stretch, the fullness. All the while, he pressed nipping kisses against her neck and offered soft praise. 

“My mate takes my cock so well,” he murmured, so wildly turned on he could barely stand it. He felt more animal than anything. The writhing beast in his chest clawed at the pace, urging him to speed things up. Next time, he swore. Next time she’d have his cock and his venom. 

It was the last few inches where Azriel met resistance. She whimpered when he pushed, her body working so hard to accommodate the girth of him. He slid a hand between their bodies, rubbing at her still swollen clit until she relaxed her muscles. 

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing her mouth over and over. “My sweet mate was made for my cock.”

She clung to him, forehead pressed against his shoulder. Azriel managed to get that last bit of himself in though for a moment he wasn’t sure he would. Holding himself inside her, Azriel continued rubbing and kissing despite how badly he needed to thrust. Instinct was cruel, urging with gnashing teeth he bathed his female in his scent.

It was Gwyn who rolled her hips first. “More,” she panted, her neck and chest as flushed as her cheeks. “I need more.”

Azriel couldn’t deny her anything. That first long drag out of her tight, wet heat was utter bliss but the return back in? That was heaven. Azriel arched his neck, mouth open as he prepared to bite. He had to force himself to merely scrape his fangs along the pulse point of her throat, over and over in a mockery of what he was made to do. She was still getting used to his cock—who knew what filling him with her venom would do.

The only thing that stopped him was the thought that she might look at him with fear should he do it before she was ready. Azriel focused on the hot arousal skimming over his skin, making every inch of him overly sensitive and desperate. 

“Are you going to come for me again?” he asked, his voice raw and ragged. He needed her too, if only to offset how absurdly close he was. Sweat slicked down his back and still Azriel couldn’t stop or speed up. He kept his pace like he was running a marathon, watching as Gwyn writhed again, arching to meet his hips over and over. He needed to feel her break apart around him, needed to have her orgasm branded against the skin of his cock. 

“Come for me,” he ordered, scraping his fangs over her neck again. Gwyn shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. She came like a tidal wave, pulling his own release from his body without either of them meaning to. Azriel grunted, thrusting harder than he meant in the wake of his release. Gwyn didn’t seem to notice or mind, squeezed so tightly around him he saw nothing but brilliant blue stars.

He held himself inside her, trying desperately to catch his breath. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Gwyn peppered his cheek and jaw with kisses.

“That was good,” she whispered, her praise warming him “You were so good.”

“There will be no sleeping for you tonight,” he warned with a smile, kissing her softly.

Gwyn grinned. “Bring it on, mate.”

GWYN: 

It was a tragedy that Gwyn was forced out of Azriel’s bed and back into the city. Her whole body ached pleasantly from the near constant sex they’d been having. He was insatiable and as it turned out, so was she. It was the closeness alongside the pleasure that Gwyn couldn’t get enough of. 

Her neck was scraped raw from his teeth. Azriel had explained after that first exhaustive night that the urge to bite overwhelmed him and the scraping helped him keep himself under control. She expected that would hurt and Gwyn thought she was ready for it. When they returned from the city, she meant to ask him to finish the rite and join them wholly. There was no point in waiting.

She didn’t want to wait. 

She also didn’t want to be part of Cassian’s welcome committee for his new mate, though it seemed she had no say in the matter. Azriel, too, was incredibly grumpy that morning, yanking on pants while muttering softly beneath his breath. His mood was soothed only slightly by a kiss to his cheek which Gwyn had learned was his favorite.

Pink stole over his brown cheeks. He ducked his head, forever embarrassed by the affection. “You look so handsome today,” she praised, catching the way he stood just a little straighter. 

“What will you do while I meet with Nesta Archeron?” 

His smile faded. “Train recruits. That is my job, after all.”

“Do dragons not get vacations?”

His fingers curled over her neck. “Perhaps when we accept the bond.”

“Tonight,” she said brightly. Azriel went rigid, allowing Gwyn to duck beneath his arm for her cape and scarf. She wasn’t putting on the absurd layers he constantly forced on her. 

“Tonight?” he croaked, repeating her words just to be certain he’d heard. Gwyn was undeterred. Maybe they were moving too quickly but nothing had ever felt as right as he did.

More importantly, Gwyn was not going back. Not to the humans and not to that cursed temple. The only place Gwyn wanted to return to was her sister, if only to say goodbye. She was under no illusions that the humans would allow her to visit regularly although she certainly meant to try. Just once, with Azriel at her back, though? That could be enough. It would have to be enough. 

“Tonight,” she agreed, yanking open the door and all but dragging him out before he could realize he hadn’t bundled her like usual. It half worked—Azriel snagged a hat on his way out the door and jammed it over her head with a look of reproach. 

He shifted without a word, his already imposing form replaced by the massive blue and black scaled creature before her. Azriel lowered himself so she could climb on his back, but Gwyn couldn’t resist an opportunity to come towards his face and place a kiss between his nostrils. He huffed in response, hazel eyes watching carefully.

“Eight hours or less,” she promised, rubbing his snout softly. He tried to nuzzle against her, but he was so big he nearly knocked her into the snow. Gwyn chuckled, clambering onto his back so they could take to the sky. She was slowly getting used to this, though the height dropped her stomach into an empty abyss her anxiety desperately tried to fill.

She reminded herself Azriel wouldn’t let her fall. 

Just like before, Azriel walked her through the streets, hand on her lower back, to Emeries. Unlike before, Emerie wasn’t alone. Another human stood against the wood floors, arms crossed over her high necked gown. She wore a scowl that told Gwyn everything she needed to know. She didn’t want to be here. Was unhappy with whatever arrangement had landed her here. 

The bell over Gwyn jangled, drawing both Emerie’s glazed stare and Nesta Archeron’s dispassionate gaze. Gwyn halted, sending Azriel barreling into her. He caught her before she fell, hands rough and somehow suggestive against her body.

The tension was palpable. 

Azriel shifted uncomfortably behind Gwyn, his fingers tightening. She knew he was debating pulling her right back out the door and leaving the whole thing behind. He wasn’t terribly social but Gwyn was. 

“Go see Cassian,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Azriel’s skin bloomed pink, just as it always did. He nodded, eyeing Nesta one last time, before vanishing into the gloomy morning light.

Gwyn made it all of two steps to Nesta, smile on her face, when Nesta said, “You’re the priestess they’re looking for.”

That stopped Gwyn cold. “What?”

Silvery blue eyes assessed her cooly. “They think you’ve been kidnapped…or worse.”

Emerie laughed. “Half true, I guess. I doubt there’s much torture happening, given her scent–”

Nesta’s head whipped towards Emerie, silencing her laughter. 

“Don’t you want to go back?” Nesta asked, striding towards Gwyn.

Gwyn scoffed. “Go back to what? A life of being told what to do? Of being ignored, of being talked over? The only way I’ll go back willingly is if they take me in a casket.”

Nesta seemed taken aback by Gwyn’s vitriol. Gwyn wasn’t done, though. This was Cassian’s mate. She could see it—straight spine, unyielding gaze. She looked like a warrior. 

“What’s so wonderful down there that you’d rather return?”

Nesta opened her mouth to lie and, perhaps thinking better of it, snapped it closed. She took a breath.

“My sister is…mated…to a dragon.”

Both Emerie and Gwyn paid a little more attention. “Is she happy?” 

Nesta bit her bottom lip. “Elain could be happy with a pinecone.”

“Is he good to her?” Emerie clarified. “He loves her? Takes care of her?”

Nesta scowled. “Yes. She’s pregnant.”

Emerie shrugged. “Cassian is our best male. You don’t like him?”

“You don’t think it’s weird that they can just declare we’re mates without any proof?” Nesta asked, eyes sliding to Gwyn. Emerie was immediately defensive.

“They wouldn’t–”

“You don’t feel it?” Gwyn asked her softly, pressing her hand against her heart. She swore she did.

“No,” Nesta said flatly. “I feel—”

The sound of vicious snarling interrupted their conversation, drawing the three towards the door. Gwyn, who was closest, yanked it open. She wasn’t the only one pouring into the street. Overhead, a massive reddish-orange dragon was snapping its teeth at a familiar blue and black scaled beast. Her Azriel. 

Cassian was on the ground, still in his two-legged form as he ordered them both to stand down. Predictably, it didn’t work. Azriel lunged, dragging the interloper away from the city square and towards the mountains with vicious, ripping teeth. The other creature snarled loudly, blowing a line of fire towards Azriel that made Gwyn scream. His head snapped in her direction, looking down from where he hovered. 

His lapse in attention let the other creature slam its talons into Azriels side, throwing him to the ground. Cassian rose upwards, shifting so quickly Gwyn’s eyes couldn’t keep up. Nesta reached out a hand before clapping it over her mouth. It was clear she didn’t want to make the same mistake Gwyn had.

Azriel hit the ground not as a beast but as a male, clutching the side of his body with one bloody hand.

“Get back inside!” he snarled at her, rising upwards to shift again. Gwyn promptly ignored him, refusing to hide while Cassian and Azriel brought the snarling beast to the ground and forced him to shift.

A male draped in crisp orange and gold replaced the snapping dragon from above. His fair skin was sliced open and dripping blood on the street. Russet eyes shifted into orange as he glanced around, scenting the air with flared nostrils. His short, auburn hair fell into his handsome face and his mouth, full and red from smeared blood, twisted in a sneer.

“This is hardly the welcome I was promised.”

Azriel reached for his blade but Cassian held up a hand, panting roughly. Tendrils of his dar hair had escaped the half bun he wore.

“Who sent you? Your kind isn’t allowed—”

“Your prince sent for me, and what you did today is cause for war,” the orange male snapped. “He wishes to negotiate the terms of our long-held treaty. Be friends,” that male added, as if he very much didn’t believe such a thing possible. 

“You should have stood down, princeling,” Azriel hissed, noting the way the interloper’s eyes slid through the gathered crowd to find her…and Nesta. His eyes lingered long enough that even Cassian’s fingers twitched. Gwyn didn’t know Nesta, and neither did Emerie, but the pair stood just a little closer. Daring him to say something. 

He turned back to a furious Cassian. “Tell me everything.”

“Come on,” Emerie whispered, pulling them both back in. Gwyn and Nesta went, though Gwyn noted how Eris glanced over his shoulder at Nesta again. That didn’t bode well, she thought, though she didn’t dare say it.

Nesta bit her bottom lip once they were safely inside.

“What did Azriel say about training?” Emerie asked without preamble. Nesta’s whole body lit up.

“Training?”

“He said he would,” Gwyn replied. Both her and Emerie looked to Nesta. “Do you want in?”

“What kind of training?”

“The kind with swords and knives,” Gwyn replied. “So no one can ever hurt us again.”

Gwyn didn’t know why she said it. Certainly not like that, with so much emphasis on being hurt. Nesta reminded Gwyn of a wounded animal. Someone had hurt her, too. She’d recognize it anywhere. Nesta took a breath.

“I’m in.”

AZRIEL: 

Fuck Eris Vanserra and fuck all the western dragons, too. 

It was all he could think about that night, sailing over the mountains to take his excited mate home. She wasn’t worried about giving them access to their home, their people…their females. Azriel was, though. The rivalry between north and west was old, and drenched in blood. It didn’t help that Eris was surveying Nesta Archeron the entire time he was in town, which had Cassian on edge. Cassian was a better male than Azriel–he would have killed Eris for the offense. 

Gwyn was too busy talking about training to be concerned about Eris. 

“You will still do the three of us, right?” Gwyn asked over dinner, looking at him with those wide eyes that made his insides soft. It was so hard to hold on to his anger in front of her. Azriel could still taste Eris’s blood in his throat.

He needed to fix that.

“Yes,” he agreed, earning a beaming smile that made him warm. It took so little to make her happy, a tragedy given how much he was willing to give her. He noted she still had the stack of rings on her fingers. The gems glimmered like his scales beneath the warm light and suddenly Azriel was thinking about what she’d told him.

He shifted in his chair. Did she still want to? 

“Are you okay?” she breathed, reaching for his plate when it was clear he wasn’t going to eat anymore. Azriel cleared his throat.

“I ah…” she was taking their things to the sink to wash up. “That can wait.”

She paused, turning so, so slowly. He huffed in exasperation when he caught her shit eating grin.

“Something on your mind, Az?”

“Get upstairs,” he murmured, nodding upwards. “Or I’ll drag you myself.”

“Oh?” she challenged. “What’re you going to do, Az?”

Famous last words. 

He stood, his body blocking her way out. Not that Gwyn didn’t try, darting around the table to get beneath his arm. She giggled loudly when he caught her with ease, hauling her up over his shoulder and walking her through the house to their shared bedroom. She didn’t fight, legs flailing and Azriel, unable to help himself, slid her dress up over her ass while he walked just so he could watch it bounce. 

He dropped her to the bed, pulling his tunic over his head. Gwyn’s eyes went wide at the healing gash screaming over his ribs. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” he promised, crawling up the bed to press his body against her own. “Unless you’d like to kiss it better?” 

She rolled her pretty eyes. “Is that all you can think about? We can wait—”

“I can’t,” he breathed, lips touching hers. “And the next time that bastard sees you, I want it to be with my scales wrapped around your neck.”

She exhaled softly. “You do?”

“More than anything.”

He took his time getting her out of his clothes, fingers trembling. Only when they were both naked did Azriel speak. “I’m told this hurts.”

“Hurts how?” she replied, sitting up on her elbows to look at him. He only shrugged helplessly.

“I’ve never…it’s the bite and the venom. But I’ll still be…”

He couldn’t make himself say it.

“Oh,” she replied with less fear than he’d expected. Gwyn digested his words for a moment and then— “I still want to.”

Relief flooded through him. “I will do my best to make it quick,” he whispered, but in truth, all he and Cassian knew about it came second hand from Lucien. He’d been reluctant to tell them anything at all, understandably so. He’d told them it had pained his mate and that instinct did not allow him to stop to care for her. He seemed to think that was the way of it, though Azriel was determined he would make it as painless as possible. 

He had an idea.

Reaching out a hand, Azriel pulled Gywn upwards into his lap before sliding to his back. Her eyes went wide.

“If it’s too much, you can stop,” he told her, trying to ignore the heat pouring from her cunt. Gwyn shifted, pressing her mouth against his own.

“I’m not going to stop, Az. You’ll see.”

He hoped not. At least for the moment, he could make this pleasurably. He hauled her forward, delighting in her soft shriek, and put her right over his face.

“Stop squirming,” he ordered, holding her so tight against him her cunt was the only thing he could scent. The tang of blood still lingering on his tongue was very quickly replaced by his mates sweetness, his frustration softened into affection and desire. Licking at her, Azriel realized he loved his female.

He should have realized it when he’d been battling Eris. Nothing had ever broken his concentration before, but the sound of her scream speared him with such fear that Eris had gained the upper hand. He hadn’t even realized she’d been out there watching.

Azriel knew, in that moment, that he would have lied, cheated, and killed for Gwyn. Her nails dug into his abdomen, hips rolling slowly over his face. She was chasing the friction his tongue offered and Azriel was in love with her. Every little piece of her. Her soft smiles and her ability to be kind despite how cruel the world had been to her. Azriel had been made hard by life and Gwyn had somehow become the opposite.

If he was shadowed death than she was lifes warm embrace. He wasn’t certain he deserved her and still he didn’t offer to take her back. He merely drove her up, until her legs were trembling around his ears and she was digging into his flesh so sharply he could scent blood mingling in the air. 

Instinct, as it always was, rode him hard as Gwyn slid down his face, repositioning herself with graceful legs. She was so used to taking his cock that it was nothing for her to slide slowly down it, her cheeks flushed from climax. He had to fight the urge to surge forward and bite, letting her get accustomed to the new position. 

Fuck, it felt good. She was still so impossibly tight that at times Azriel didn’t know how he managed to drag himself of her at all. Gwyn was dripping, smearing slick over his abdomen as she rode him. He swallowed, gesturing for her to lay herself against him, her hips still moving.

“Now, it has to be now,” he groaned, already too close. 

“Do it,” she whispered, increasing her pace. She pushed her hair from her neck, presenting it to him and Azriel found Lucien had been right about one thing. He couldn’t stop himself. Fangs elongated, he reared upwards, one hand wrapped around her body to keep her against him. Azriel bit, pouring venom into her body.

Gwyn gasped, her body stilling long enough for Azriel to reposition them, to sit up so he was supporting her ass with his hand, still fucking her. He didn’t unlatch until there was nothing left, until his fangs began to retract and her blood was pooling in his mouth.

Gwyn gasped again, twin tears sliding down the sides of her eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked her, licking at the wound over and over until the deep holes began to heal over, encouraged by the magic in his saliva.

“I can feel it,” she told him, arms twined around his neck. “The bond. It’s real.”

His eyes fluttered upwards, pleasure all but slamming into him. She was just behind, coming loudly, her forehead pressed against his own. He couldn’t stop kissing her. She felt what Azriel had known since he’d first seen her. He couldn’t stop touching, kissing, holding her until she was wiggling out of his lap.

He saw it before her, the slow drag of magic against her skin. Vibrant blue wrapped itself around her neck, trailing against her collarbone like the softest caress. It made her skin seem translucent by comparison, her eyes so vivid it stole his breath.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, padding after her into the bathroom. She’d gone to clean up, unaware of how quickly the magic had gone to work. He stopped her, standing just behind with his hands on her shoulders so she could see.

Her eyes went wide.

“Az,” she breathed, fingers brushing over her neck.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, one arm holding her naked back to his slick chest. He felt peace for the first time in his life, seeing his scales gracing her lovely skin. Nothing and no one had ever been half as beautiful to him as she was in that moment.

“Are you happy?” he asked her, burying his face in her long, unbound hair.

She inclined her head to look at him. “I am. Are you?”

He chickened out, last minute. Instead of telling her he loved her, he lowered his head to kiss her cheek.

“I have never been happier, sweet mate.”