The Starlance rested above Aeltharion's capital, its violet skies tinged with an uneasy calm, the crystalline spires of the city reflecting the twin suns' light, now shadowed by the faint pulse of another Starheart echo. The ship's starfire runes glowed steadily, the hull patched but resilient, the viewport revealing a city bracing for Solaris's looming summit. King Zevryn Thaloryn stood at the helm, his white hair tied back, his violet eyes a mix of resolve and lingering trauma, the echo of his brother's perverse obsession—"You're mine, brother"—a fading but persistent scar. His obsidian armor gleamed, his silver tattoos pulsing with starfire, a testament to his dual kingship over Aeltharion and Varenthia—and his evolving strength as a Lord of the Blood, now navigating love and leadership with Lysara.Lysara Veyne stood beside him, her shadowweave armor pristine, her dark hair framing her sharp face, her amber eyes warm with trust, their bond fortified by their recent passion. The love trials arc deepened their connection, though the Starheart's echoes stirred new challenges, her shadow magic coiling as she spoke. "The echo's stronger this time—coming from the Drakon Keep, near the dragon roosts," she said, her voice low, her magic probing the city's energy. "It's waking something." Zevryn's jaw tightened, his starfire flaring, his tattoos glowing. "We destroy it before Solaris uses it against us," he growled, his voice a kingly command, the trauma in his violet eyes tempered by determination.Selene Mirath, her golden hair neatly tied, her starry eyes focused, adjusted the sensors, her voice steady. "The echo's signature is volatile—linked to the dragon roosts' ley lines. Solaris is impatient; Seris says they'll attack unless we present the Starheart's fate at the summit tomorrow." Zevryn's political mind sharpened, Seris's diplomacy a critical lifeline. "Tell Seris to prepare the evidence—focus on the neutralized shard," he ordered, his voice firm. "Tharion, take us to the Keep with the riders."Commander Tharion nodded, his weathered face grim, and piloted the Starlance toward the Drakon Keep, a rugged fortress carved into Aeltharion's cliffs, home to the dragon riders. Among them was Captain Eryndor, a tall, muscular rider with jet-black hair, piercing green eyes, and a dragon-scarred chest, his charisma drawing attention. As they landed, the Keep's air thrummed with the echo's pulse, the dragon roosts alive with restless beasts.Inside, the echo emanated from a cavernous chamber, its walls lined with ancient dragon scales, the Starheart shard pulsing with a dark light, projecting a mirror of Zevryn's brother, his scarred face twisted with obsession. "You can't escape me," the echo rasped, triggering Zevryn's trauma, his starfire faltering as the memory of the forced sex in the Shattered Nexus flooded back. Lysara's shadow magic steadied him, her amber eyes fierce. "We end this," she whispered, but her gaze shifted to Eryndor, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "Zevryn needs to reclaim himself—fully. Join us, Captain."Eryndor's green eyes widened, then darkened with interest, his voice a low rumble. "If it serves my king," he agreed, his scarred chest heaving. They retreated to a private roost, the chamber's heat amplifying their intent, the dragon scales reflecting their forms. Zevryn shed his armor, his muscular frame tense, his tattoos glowing, his violet eyes meeting Lysara's, then Eryndor's. "I need this," he rasped, his trauma giving way to a fierce need.Lysara's armor fell, her curves bare, her shadow magic coiling as she guided Zevryn and Eryndor, her voice a seductive command. "Take him," she urged, her hands on Zevryn's shoulders. Eryndor stripped, his chiseled body scarred and powerful, his thick cock hard and ready. Zevryn knelt, his royal dick—thick, veiny, an extra inch longer—throbbing as he took Eryndor into his mouth, his lips stretching around the girth, tasting the salt and heat, a reclaiming of agency. Eryndor groaned, his hands in Zevryn's hair, thrusting gently, while Lysara watched, her shadow magic teasing Zevryn's skin, her amber eyes alight with desire.Eryndor pulled Zevryn up, their bodies pressing together, his cock brushing Zevryn's, their kisses rough and hungry. Lysara joined, her hands guiding Eryndor's cock to Zevryn's ass, her shadow magic lubricating him as Eryndor thrust in, slow at first, then hard, filling Zevryn with a burning stretch. "Fuck, yes," Zevryn gasped, his starfire flaring, his tattoos glowing as Eryndor pounded him, their rhythm intense, a clash of muscle and magic. Lysara knelt, sucking Zevryn's cock, her mouth hot and skilled, her shadow magic pulsing as she took him deep, her moans vibrating against him.The threesome was a storm of passion—Eryndor's thrusts driving Zevryn into Lysara's mouth, their magics merging, the dragon roost echoing with their cries. Zevryn's control shattered, his cum erupting into Lysara's throat, her own climax shuddering as her shadow magic flared, while Eryndor groaned, filling Zevryn with his release, their bodies collapsing in a sweaty heap. The reflections faded, the Starheart shard's pulse weakening, Zevryn's trauma eased by the consensual intensity.Their moment was cut short by Tharion's voice, urgent. "The shard's summoning echo constructs—dragon shades!" Zevryn, Lysara, and Eryndor dressed swiftly, their bond deepened, and returned to the chamber. The constructs—spectral dragons and warriors—attacked, their claws and blades reflecting past battles. Zevryn led, his starfire sword igniting, Lysara's shadow magic striking, Eryndor joining with a dragon-blade, their synchronized assault shattering the shades, the shard cracking under their combined power.Selene reported via holo-comm, her starry eyes relieved. "The echo's neutralized, but the ley lines are unstable—more remnants may emerge." Zevryn's political mind raced, his brother's echo a fading threat, the summit with Solaris looming. "Prepare for the summit," he ordered, his violet eyes meeting Lysara's and Eryndor's, their love trial a foundation for the challenges ahead.
