by Sarah Hawke
“Perhaps we should continue the discipline training later,” Selvhara said when their lips finally parted. She ran her slender fingers through Kaseya’s long red hair. “There are many other ways we could spend the afternoon.”
“That is true,” Kaseya agreed with a coquettish smile. “And Valuri did loan me something I have been wanting to use on you.”
Selvhara rose up on her tiptoes to bring their eyes more even. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and I think—”
Kaseya paused when they heard the heavy, distant flapping of Jorem’s wings. He appeared in the sky over the grove a few moments later, and he began to slowly circle the area in preparation to land.
“There is something else we need to do first,” Kaseya said, her blue eyes glittering mischievously. “Something we have been putting off far too long.”
The amazon lifted the willowy druid up into her arms and hopped down from the stump. Selvhara still couldn’t believe how strong this girl was, both in body and spirit. She could sense Kaseya’s brimming excitement through her collar, and it was incredibly…stimulating.
Jorem swept around and landed in the clearing just outside the grove. A tremor shuddered through Selvhara’s bare feet, and she watched in fascination as the awe-inspiring red dragon transformed into a man. For a moment, she was back in Tir Lanathel, watching from the streets as the Wyrm Lords landed upon the palace aviary before massive crowds of their eager supplicants…
“We really need to find a tailor who can weave some magical clothes,” Jorem said when he stumbled naked through the trees and into the grove. “I don’t suppose the artificer who crafted that retractable robe of yours is still alive?”
Selvhara glanced down at her loose-fitting garments. “Ostensibly, these robes were forged by Shalassa herself. I doubt that is true, but I also doubt that there is an artificer capable of replicating the technique anywhere in Torsia.”
“I’m still tempted to look,” he murmured tiredly as he glanced over at his pack in their small campsite. “That, or I could try and learn some illusion magic.”
“We both prefer you this way,” Kaseya said as she strode over to him and gave him a kiss. Selvhara could feel the echo of their lips meeting through the collar, and she had to touch her own face to remind herself it wasn’t real.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t the middle of winter,” he said, shivering. The sun was especially bright today, but it was still uncomfortably brisk. “I’d settle for a pair of warm boots right now.”
The amazon slowly dragged her hand down his chest. “We have plenty of other ways to keep you warm,” she teased, stopping her hand when it reached his belly. “Did you find anything out there?”
“Nothing new, really,” Jorem said, glancing back over his shoulder to the mountains. “The remnants of the fleet are still trickling into the harbor, and there are plenty of wyverns in the sky. Honestly, I bet the Sanctori and the Senosi haven’t even told the public what happened yet.”
“They will learn, sooner or later,” Selvhara said. “Without the Conduit to sustain them, the Crimson Fist will wither and die just like the Silver Fist.”
“I know, but the Sanctori and the Senosi don’t need the Aether—at least, not directly. They’ll probably fight amongst each other for power…or maybe they’ll all rally behind a single figure. Honestly, I’m not sure what’s worse.”
“Whatever wicked path they choose, they will not rule Vorsalos for long,” Kaseya told him. “Valuri is determined to return home and stop them, and we both know she always gets what she wants.”
Jorem smiled, but Selvhara could tell it was half-hearted at best. He was genuinely worried about the future of his home city, and that worry seemed to be growing every day. His concern was not misplaced—she had borne witness to a thousand years of war and struggle in Varellon, and the death of a tyrant rarely led to a peaceful transition of power. Defeating evil was rarely as simple as stabbing it with a blade…or even pushing it through a rift into the Pale.
“Marcella’s armies are still holding firm in Ostvara and Graygale, and it’s not like we can just conjure an army to drive them out,” Jorem said. “Highwind may be safe, but the Reaches are a different story.”
“The enemy will relent when they realize they are no match for a dragon,” Selvhara told him. “You have the opportunity to rebuild this entire region however you see fit!”
He grunted softly. “I don’t want to rule anything.”
“That choice is no longer yours,” she told him. “The Aether itself has selected you as its champion. It is your destiny to rule…just as it is our destiny to serve you.”
He looked at her, his eyes solemn. “You’ve served someone long enough.”
Selvhara smiled. “Because I had to, not because I wanted to. This is different. Everything is different.”
She knew that such talk made him uncomfortable, but she enjoyed the sudden flush of red in his cheeks. His humility was charming…but it was also misguided. The sooner he learned to accept his destiny, the better. Rumors of his victory would spread far and wide across Torsia and even Varellon, and ambitious men across the world would begin mustering their forces to challenge the dragon’s power. She had seen it countless times before.
“We can discuss the future when we rendezvous with Valuri in Hastien’s Fall tonight,” Kaseya said. “But it is a beautiful day, and we have put off the ritual long enough.”
“Ritual?” Jorem asked. “What ritual?”
The amazon’s eyes sparkled. “A vitally important one we will all enjoy.”
“I see,” he murmured, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, my feet are freezing. Can I get dressed first?”
“Absolutely not,” Kaseya insisted. She smiled and kissed him on the lips again, then gracefully sank down onto her knees in front of him. His manhood stiffened at her touch despite the cold, and he moaned softly when she swallowed the swollen tip.
Selvhara had to brace herself against an adjacent tree when the echo of arousal sang through Kaseya’s collar and then into hers. The druid’s lips parted, and she swore she could feel his hardening cock swelling in her mouth…
Once he was at full length, the amazon eventually leaned away and glanced back at the elf. “Come,” she said. “Share him with me.”
Selvhara didn’t hesitate. She slid down onto her knees next to the amazon, and her quim tingled in anticipation when Kaseya guided the dragon’s stem through her waiting lips. Staring directly into his brown eyes, Selvhara took his manhood deeper and deeper into her mouth. She hadn’t tasted Jorem since before they had returned to Highwind—probably only two weeks, yet it felt like a small eternity. She yearned to feel his heady seed flood over her tongue; she yearned to taste the power of his ancestral memories.
Before, she had been trying to seduce him in service of her dark master. But now…now she was here only for Jorem. She was ready and eager to serve the Wyrm Lord whenever—and however—he saw fit.
“Open up,” Kaseya said, sliding a hand through the druid’s brown hair and planting it on the base of her skull. “He prefers it deep.”
The amazon took complete control as she shoved Selvhara’s head forward and forced Jorem’s cock all the way down her throat. Another tingle of delight rippled through the druid when she saw the euphoria on his face. Knowing that the sight of her body kneeling before him was bringing a dragon pleasure—knowing that the heat of her mouth would soon cause him to erupt—was enough to ignite her quim. Her hands slid into the folds of her robe, fingers moving down in the hopes of putting out the flames…
But Kaseya beat her to it. The amazon slipped a finger inside her, curling it against Selvhara’s front wall and instantly triggering a full-body climax. Selvhara twitched in place, unable to move with Kaseya’s hand on her head and the dragon’s cock lodged in her throat. Her eyes rolled back, and her joyous gags and gurgles quickly pushed him over the edge.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed. “Here it comes!”
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“No!” Kaseya said, yanking Selvhara’s head away. The druid gasped for air, her entire body still tingling. “The ritual has only just begun.”
The amazon tenderly slid her finger from the elf’s quim and tapped her anklet. Selvhara’s robe immediately retracted, leaving her stark naked in the bright sunlight. She watched and waited, wondering what Kaseya planned to do with her next. The amazon was completely in control, and Selvhara was loving every second of it.
“Come,” Kaseya said, reaching out and hoisting the druid’s sleek body up into her arms. She carried Selvhara over to their camp and gently laid her down upon one of the soft fur bedrolls, then bade Jorem to follow with her chin.
“Do you pledge to serve this dragon?” Kaseya asked.
Selvhara nodded eagerly, heart racing. “Yes.”
“Do you bind yourself, body and soul, to his power?”
“Yes!”
“Then repeat my words,” Kaseya said. “Moshalim salah, v’morth kraan Maskari.”
Selvhara grinned as Jorem knelt at the end of the bedroll, another surge of excitement crashing through her so hard she nearly climaxed again. “Moshalim salah, v’morth kraan Maskari.”
Kaseya brushed the druid’s collar. “The tan’ratha symbolizes your submission. You are forever the dragon’s companion…and my loyal sister in arms.” She glanced back over her shoulder to Jorem. “Do you accept her pledge of service, in this life and the next?”
Jorem nodded and grinned. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Kaseya asked. “Take her, Maskari. Make her ours!”
The gentlest touch of his hand on her thigh was all it took for Selvhara to spread her slender legs for him. He quickly crawled on top of her, and the amazon guided the tip of his still-throbbing manhood to the slick, smoldering entrance to the druid’s quim. Selvhara was a thousand years her senior, yet she knew she looked as breathless and eager as a young maiden. It was as if she were about to be entirely reborn.
“Please,” she begged, her voice as delicate as glass. “I have been waiting for you my entire life…”
Jorem brushed a lock of brown hair from her eyes. She knew for a fact he had never gazed upon a woman who wanted him—who needed him—more than she did right now. Her lust was a thousand years in the making.
The tip of his manhood pressed up against her sodden folds, and the walls of her cunt, slick yet tight beyond comprehension, invited him deeper. Selvhara swore that a bolt of lightning struck her when he thrust all the way inside, and her legs instinctively wrapped around his back as he took her. Their lips touched, their tongues swirled together, and a climax stole her breath for so long she nearly passed out.
“Harder,” Kaseya said, panting. “Just like back in the Underworld!”
Selvhara’s hands clawed into Jorem’s back as he slammed into her. Her thoughts flashed back to the first time he had transformed—and how savagely he had fucked her in the aftermath. Just imagining him holding her face down and pounding into her nearly set her off again…
But this was different. Jorem wasn’t merely fucking her; he was making love to her in a way few others ever had. She could feel the echo of his joy through Kaseya, and she knew how close he was to spilling inside her. Selvhara’s quim burned and her breath stalled when she imagined his seed taking root…
“Jorem!” she cried out. “Please!”
He exploded with a cry of triumph that echoed through the grove and across the Shattered Peaks. A thousand years of frustration and torment were banished in an instant when she finally felt the dragon’s legacy flooding into her. She gasped, she wept…and then she fell silent, her arms and legs still locked around him.
“Tanya nae elemendiya,” she breathed when his manhood stilled inside her. “Maskari…”
Kaseya’s hand touched her cheek. The amazon was still panting, driven to climax from her collar, but she leaned forward and kissed Selvhara on the lips.
“Welcome,” she breathed. “My sister.”
Epilogue
The morning air was brisk and clear when Jorem strolled out onto the aftercastle of the merchant galley. Most of the ship’s crew and passengers were still below decks, though he expected that to change this afternoon once they drew closer to Ostvara. The ship’s captain had hired on a dozen Darkwind soldiers for extra protection, including several half-orc archers who had demonstrated exceptional skill during the battle a week ago.
In many ways, this ship was a preview of an uncertain future. Desperate merchants in the Reaches, starved of opportunities for trade over the past few months, were willing to take considerable risks to move their cargo out to the Broken Sea. And many of the soldiers who had defended Highwind, cast aside by the woman who had liberated them from slavery in the Underworld, were willing to pounce on any opportunity to make a new life for themselves on the surface. Jorem sincerely hoped that everything worked out for both groups.
None of that had anything to do with why he was here, of course. The gray-brown robe he was wearing was itchy and uncomfortable, but in theory it would also allow him to blend in with the rest of the passengers—and to land in Ostvara without immediately getting attacked by the Vorsalosian forces still occupying the city. He and the girls had all taken great pains to board separately and in disguise.
Valuri still wasn’t convinced that any of this subterfuge was necessary, but Jorem preferred to play it safe for once. In theory, he could fly over the Reaches and torch anyone who stood in their way; with the Crimson Flame channelers defeated, there wasn’t a single force in the region capable of stopping a dragon. But Jorem wasn’t interested in burning Ostvara or Graygale or even Vorsalos to the ground. He wanted to know precisely what they were up against before he made any drastic moves. He was a sorcerer, after all, and the Senosi were still a threat.
“It is odd to be moving so slowly given our other available options,” Kaseya said from behind him.
Jorem turned to see the amazon walking toward him, a warm smile on her face. He still hadn’t gotten used to seeing her in a thick traveling cloak and plainclothes. The entire time he had known her, she had either been wearing her amazon armor…or nothing at all.
“Sometimes it’s good to stop and take in a sunrise,” Jorem told her. “If anything, life has been moving far too quickly recently.”
She sidled up beside him and leaned against the railing. The river was relatively calm at the moment, though he didn’t even want to imagine how cold the water must have been.
“I feel strange without my sword and shield,” Kaseya told him. “Like I am missing a vital part of myself.”
“You’ll have the chance to wear them again soon, don’t worry,” Jorem assured her. “But for once, I’d rather have an uneventful journey.”
He could feel her blue eyes upon the side of his head. “You are worried about repeating the mistakes of the past.”
“All of us should be,” he said. “We made so many of them these past few months.”
“That is not what I mean. You are concerned about repeating the mistakes of the dragons.”
Jorem turned to face her. The naïve warrior-woman he had met on this very river less than half a year ago was still standing there in front of him, but she was wise beyond her years in so many ways. Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised him anymore. After all, she was the one who had been able to perceive the weakness in the defenses of a god. Reading the body language of her Maskari was nothing in comparison, especially with the aid of her collar.
“You heard what Selvhara said about Dathiel’s original plan,” Jorem said. “He thought he could twist me into destroying Highwind all by myself. I don’t know if the Avetharri Wyrm Lords were as arrogant as history claims, but what if it’s true? I’ve felt what this power can do…I’ve felt the way it yearns to be unleashed.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I want to make things better, not set the world aflame. Besides, there’s still so much I don’t understand about the Aether
or my abilities. We can afford to be subtle once in a while.”
Kaseya paused for a heartbeat before she reached out and pulled him in for a warm, gentle kiss. Jorem only reopened his eyes when she finally leaned away.
“Valuri insists there will never be a better time to strike at the Senosi,” Kaseya said. “I do not think she will be happy until she personally tears apart the Castarium.”
“Even then, happiness isn’t really her thing,” Jorem replied dryly. “But don’t worry, I know how much you want to get back to Nol Krovos. And I promise, I won’t make you take a boat back home.”
“The appearance of a dragon over the island will certainly cause a stir.”
“A good one, I hope.”
“I do not know,” Kaseya admitted. “But we will find out together.”
Jorem grinned and kissed her again. The sun was surprisingly warm on his skin, and he took a moment to enjoy the serenity of the rushing waves and gentle breeze.
“There are times I still can’t believe I met you on a ship like this,” he said eventually. “You were so exotic and…well, unapproachable.”
“Then you are fortunate that I approached you.”
“I thank the gods every day for that little miracle.” He pulled back the hood of her cloak and brushed a hand through her red hair. “When you took me into that cabin, a part of me thought you were going to kill me.”
Kaseya grinned. “Instead I sucked your cock.”
He smirked. “You certainly did.”
She chuckled and slid her hand through his robe and down into his trousers. He began to swell the instant her fingertips brushed against his manhood.
“Speaking of,” she said, nibbling at her lip. “Dawn is breaking, yet I have not performed my morning ritual.”
“That’s true,” Jorem said with a soft moan. “Though this may not be the best place for such a…ceremony.”
