Just as they were turning to head back inside, Elara and Serena both gasped.
"Ah yes, Prince Dexmon will have my head if I let you close to them. But as you can see, those are the dragons —"
The largest dragon in the fleet lifted its head and his eyes locked on Serena.
King Tiberon Drakenfell was on the field at that moment and followed the dragon's gaze.
He did not know her. Which meant only one thing.
That had to be the girl his son had brought back.
His attention sharpened as it settled on her, instinctively cataloging details the way a king did threats and assets alike. He had been hearing mindlinks about her all morning. Whispers. Fractured impressions. None of them sufficient.
Then he noticed the light.
Her hair. Was it gold? White? Both?
He blinked once. Then again.
Her eyes were solid gold light. No pupil. No white. Her hair glowed in answer, the same radiance bleeding through her skin.
In a lifetime as a king, he had never seen anything like it.
And he was not the only one. Every dragon and rider on the field went still.
"Serena!" Elara hissed, pulling the hood of Serena's cloak over her hair and face, not missed by anyone.
The dragon who had been watching Serena began moving towards her.
Gasps rippled outward as his eyes began to glow gold. The same gold that burned in hers.
Serena was moving. She didn't remember deciding to.
They met.
Her hand lifted without her awareness. She touched the space between its eyes.
Light detonated.
Gold flared outward in a blinding pulse. The shockwave followed instantly, vibrating through the field and the castle alike and knocking everyone to the ground.
For a heartbeat, nothing moved. No one breathed.
Then the dragon made a sound, almost a purr, and nuzzled into her palm.
Velkaris.
The name filled her mind without permission. She knew this dragon. Somehow. He was hers.
Velkaris shifted and nudged her gently, insistently, toward his massive front leg.
There were shouts somewhere behind her. Voices raised in alarm. Serena did not hear them.
She climbed the dragon, in a swift motion, as if she had done it a thousand times.
Velkaris growled low, then shot straight into the air, wings slicing like blades.
Below, the field froze. Servants spilled from doorways. Riders stood rooted in place. The city beyond the castle went still.
All eyes lifted to the sky.
"Shit." The word slipped from Elara's mouth before she could stop it.
Several heads turned toward her. She went pale.
She had not sounded surprised.
That was the problem.
A ripple of tension passed through the crowd, whispers breaking out at the edges as understanding began to take shape. Elara shut her eyes for a brief moment, jaw tight, forcing herself to breathe through the surge of frustration.
The damage was done.
The moment Serena had touched that dragon, everything had changed.
Too much attention invited questions. Questions they were not prepared to answer.
They had only just escaped and would have to leave here immediately to avoid going back.
Velkaris folded his wings mid-fall, then exploded outward in a blinding surge—not to slow their descent, but to drive them faster.
The air screamed as they vanished into a streak of gold, so fast the eye couldn't track them.
Alarm rippled across the field.
Everyone was on their feet now. Dragon riders shouted in panic. Even King Tiberon had gone still, his color draining as he tracked the arc of gold through the sky.
"That's a Truebond Veil," someone whispered, voice shaking.
It was meant only for the purest bonds.
If either rider or dragon lost focus, even for a moment, they would die.
No one had attempted it in over a century.
King Tiberon had seen enough.
"Eron. Now."
A black-scaled dragon reared at the sound of his name, answering instantly. Tiberon vaulted onto his back in one practiced motion, crown abandoned, cloak snapping violently as they launched skyward.
"Block her if she falls," he commanded aloud. "Understand?"
Eron rumbled once and surged forward, wings tearing into the wind.
Below them, the field fell silent.
They could only watch as their king tore across the sky, reckless with speed, eyes locked on the streak of gold ahead.
He was not trying to save a woman.
His instincts had already named her and his instincts were never wrong.
Dex never brought anyone home.
This woman was his son's fated mate.
Dex had not admitted it yet. But he would.
As Tiberon climbed, the gold light reappeared.
Velkaris dropped cleanly back into the field and landed with effortless grace.
A successful Truebond Veil.
Tiberon exhaled and made a mental note to never tell his son about the thirty seconds of genuine panic he'd just experienced.
Alas, his relief lasted about two seconds.
Velkaris took off again without warning.
He hurled her upward.
Fifty feet. Maybe more.
A collective gasp tore through the riders.
For one frozen heartbeat, it looked like she just got bucked off a dragon.
One rider broke formation, already moving to intercept her fall.
Then Velkaris dove.
He cut sharply beneath her, wings carving the air into a tightening spiral, and surged upward with brutal precision.
She landed standing, balanced and unshaken, upon the head of a flying dragon. Her hair flowed weightlessly around her.
No rider had ever done this. It did not exist in theory or practice.
And of all dragons it could have been... It was THAT dragon.
Velkaris soared low across the field, wings stretched wide. She rode the air as if gravity had surrendered to her will.
✦✦✦
Dexmon smelled her perfume before he opened the door.
He pushed into his study and found Agnes perched on the edge of his desk, legs crossed, skirt riding deliberately high. She'd positioned herself in the shaft of light from the window like she'd rehearsed it.
"Agnes." He didn't break stride, his voice a low growl. "What part of 'stay out of my study' was unclear?"
"The door was unlocked," she said unperturbed.
"Get out."
Two words. No warmth. He didn't even look at her as he crossed to the side table.
Agnes moved, stopping in front of him, placing one hand flat against his chest.
"Make me."
The words hung in the air, a challenge laced with heat. Or maybe exactly the provocation she intended. Her fingers trailed lower, pressing against the hard plane of his abdomen. He caught her wrist in a vise grip, his fingers digging in just enough to warn.
"I said no."
She didn't flinch. Her eyes held his, and her voice dropped..
"Your mouth says no. The rest of you hasn't decided yet."
He wanted to shove her away.
He should've thrown her out. But why? What was the point? Upset her, and she'd only dig her claws in deeper.
Instead, his mind flashed to Serena. To Gavriel's blatant pursuit of her earlier. And to her immediate reaction to Agnes. Her panic bled through with startling clarity. A response that made no sense.
He shouldn't care. She wasn't his. But it didn't sit right.
He didn't realize Agnes had already removed his belt, until she freed him, wrapping her fingers around the base. He was already half-hard from a tension that had nothing to do with her.
She stroked once, firmly, from base to tip, her grip possessive.
"There," she said, sinking to her knees with a predatory grace. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, gleaming with triumph. "See? Not so difficult."
She took him into her mouth.
A first.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
She sucked him deeper, tongue swirling along the underside, her rhythm building like a storm.
It should have worked.
He felt nothing.
Minutes dragged. His body wasn't responding and the frustration mounted in his chest. He wanted release… but he looked down and saw black strands.
His hand gripped the edge of his desk, head dropping back. He looked at the ceiling and willed his body to cooperate, to let the sensation be enough, to let this be the uncomplicated release it was supposed to be. Just friction. Just escape.
She hummed, a low vibration she knew usually worked.
It didn't.
He closed his eyes, completely shutting her out.
Better. But not enough.
Finally he caved. He pictured who he'd been trying to get out of his head.
Serena.
He wondered how beautiful her body was. Her skin against his. If her cum would taste as good as her scent. How tight she would feel around him.
His hips jerked forward involuntarily, thrusting into Agnes's mouth.
A sound tore from his throat, his body locking for three punishing seconds before the release ripped through him.
Agnes pulled back slowly. Eyes bright with satisfaction. She wiped the corner of her mouth with one finger and rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt as if she'd just finished a perfectly civilized conversation.
"You needed that."
"Get. Out." Dexmon didn't soften it.
Agnes smirked, then turned leaving the study.
And Dex was left standing alone, breath ragged, fists clenched.
Her name still thundered in his mind like a battle drum.