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October 24 - October 27, 2025
“Yours, Raz,” she gasped. “Only yours.” “Mine,” he snarled in a way that could only be described as a dragon’s growl, before his movements become erratic, sending them both careening into pleasure.
The filthy look he gave her had her breath seizing all over again. “We’re not done,” he said. “Never done,” she agreed, hauling his mouth back to hers.
“Can I touch your wings?” she whispered. “You can touch whatever you want whenever you want,” he murmured into her neck.
She ran her fingers along it again, then stilled when he made a sound. “Did you just …purr?” “Dragons don’t purr.” “It sounded like you purred.”
He stretched his arms above his head, muscles rippling with the movement and wings flaring out slightly. “Deeper in the cave, there is an entire room with piles of treasure.” “There is not,” she tsked. He leaned over her, reaching out and cupping the back of her head as he brushed a lingering kiss across her lips. “There is. I’ll fuck you on top of all the gold later.”
“Razik?” “What?” he asked, reaching for a utensil to flip the eggs. “What does mai dragocen mean?”
“It is a term from Nordrir,” he answered after a long stretch of silence. “That world was once inhabited by dragon shifters. Or so I have read.”
“My penchant for collecting treasure is nothing compared to a full-blooded dragon shifter. But their most valued treasure? It was called dragocen. Mai is a variation of ‘mine’ in that language, and while they do not have twin flames, they do have mates. They called their mates mai dragocen. My most treasured. It was a sacred term to them, only used between mates.”
“It was not something I called you lightly,” he said. “It was not something I would have called you unless it was true.” “The only place I do not need my armor,” she whispered, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, eyes searching his. “Never with me, mai dragocen.”
“The rings were nothing special when they first came here,” Mordecai said, hand coming up to still Nuri’s fingers. She scowled at him. “They were simple family crest rings, but they were created into something more when they were used to hide a portal key.” “What the fuck is a portal key?” Cyrus asked, rubbing at his temples. He really was not in the mood for a history lesson. “They are similar to the mirror gates in a way. They can create portals between the worlds. Deimas had one. It was how he got here,” Mordecai explained.
But from what I can gather, Eliné and Henna became suspicious of their sister before her betrayal was fully revealed. They somehow stole the portal key and Esmeray’s ring and took them to the then High Witch. She used an enchantment to split the key into three pieces, hiding them within the rings. Divided, the power of the stone is diminished, but he was able to use the ring to turn any mirror into a mirror gate to communicate with Achaz.” “And if the three rings were reunited, say by a powerful Sorceress …” Cyrus gritted out, piecing together exactly why Gehenna wanted her spell book and this
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“Now leave so I can eat.” As she said it, she slid into Mordecai’s lap, straddling him and brushing aside his shoulder-length hair. He was already tipping his head to the side, his hands landing on her waist. “You can’t drink from a glass?” Cassius said dryly, getting to his feet. “Night Children only drink from the throat if they are lost to bloodlust or they are drinking from a lover. I don’t think bloodlust is the case here,” Cyrus murmured,
But he’d long since learned he would never be stronger than the Fae. He would never be faster. He would always be outmatched, so he had to be smarter. Use distractions and technique to his advantage.
“You can question my motives and my character. Frankly, you should. But never question my feelings for my wife again. Am I clear?” “Your wife?” Ezra stammered, jerking back a step. “She never said … When?”
Fifty. They had killed fifty people trying to do something with the godsdamn mirror gate? “Why did you kill fifty? It has never taken more than ten at one time unless children were involved,” Mordecai asked. And his tone was a warrior demanding information. No emotion behind his words. Just a commander assessing a situation.
“Scarlett closed all of the Maraans’ current rips in the realm. She altered the keys so that they locked the spiritual planes being used, but there are always workarounds. Alaric apparently found one using the mirror gates,” Azrael answered grimly. “But whatever he was doing appears to have stopped working.”
The seraph smirked. “My world is not a place for mortals. They are not even worthy of menial tasks there.” “Then it seems to me you should not be making assumptions about a people you know nothing about,” he replied,
“Taking down the wards bound our lives to the Maraan Lords on the thrones respectfully,” Drake said.
“Yes, but it also means they want us kept close. Locked in cells to ensure we do not find a way to end ourselves and thus them,” Drake said. “It is why I cannot go back.”
“Because as long as there are Maraans here, Achaz has a way in,”
“Arius and Serafina have heavy protections around their children. It is why Achaz has not been able to come here yet, but Alaric is close to finding another way to let Achaz in. The only way to stop what he has plann...
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“Are you saying that to truly end all of this, Drake, Hale, ...
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His black hair was tied up atop his head, and his patented stoic expression was on his face. But the relief and want and shock she saw glimmering in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
“You will stay in my rooms?” “I did not want to assume—” “We are past that, Talwyn. I will meet you there in an hour.” “All right.” With a last lingering look, he slipped back into the council room. She took a few deep breaths, still trying to get her racing heart rate back under control,
“Nothing has changed between us,” he’d said. “You may not have Courts to rule. You may not have any magic. You might not be a queen to anyone else, but you are still my queen, Talwyn Semiria.”
“I am yours, and you are mine. I choose you, above all others. Always.” The Claiming Rite. Words that would do nothing for a twin flame Mark that she could no longer bear or initiate any Trials, but she still felt the claiming in her soul. “And if my Staying does not hold?” she’d whispered, feeling a tear leak from the corner of her eye. “Always, Talwyn. We take it one day at a time,” he’d replied, dipping down to take her mouth with his.
But Azrael was tugging her to a stop and spinning her back to face him. His hand cupped her cheek, tilting her head back to look up at him. “Meet me on the battlefield,” he said softly, echoing words she’d said to him weeks ago.
“Talwyn, jump!” Jetta ordered again. “It is their last act of honor to save their bonded rider. It’s why he’s fighting to keep in the air. He won’t last much longer. Trust your griffin and jump!”
That was a dark queen moving among ashes with arrows of deathstone flying from her bow three at a time. That was a mythical king, long thought dead, atop a horse as dark as the coming night. That was an Ash Rider moving faster than the smoke he commanded. Those were dragons flying up and out of the main gates. One of shadows and one of flames. A king and queen atop them. Scarlett was finally here. And she had brought an army.
She felt her lips tilt up as her shadow armor slid into place, but more than that, the Chaos inside of her seemed to thrum in excitement.
they fell into the song and dance that had always been them. Wild and chaotic. Push and pull. Fire and shadows.
Until two dragon roars ripped through the air. One belonging to a spirit animal and the other to the Legacy he was bonded to. Ranvir and Tybalt were soaring up, and the seraphs were scattering as dragon fire left those in its path in ashes.
Sorin was already there, already catching up to them. Not on a fire dragon, though. No. He had godsdamn wings of fire.
“He did not have a descendant of Arius merge death with his blood by their touch,” Roderick spat. And that had Scarlett pausing. That was an interesting talent.
If she’d have given up all her Chaos, she’d have died. And Scarlett had learned in her time between the stars that if she let it, the Chaos would take from her until it killed her. That was the true cost of harnessing it. Finding the balance between the blessing and the curse that Chaos was and not letting it consume her.
“The winds whispered of victory,” she lilted, gaze sweeping the room. Then her sky-blue eyes met Scarlett’s. “And they spoke of power being reborn.”
“Sorin?” He paused, glancing down at her. “Yeah, Love?” “The fire wings were …” Gods, she couldn’t even say what that had done to her. To see him with godsdamn wings of flame? The blood and blades. She didn’t want to know what kind of person that made her, but her blood heated just thinking about it. A soft chuckle rumbled from him as he ushered her inside. “I know, Love. I felt exactly what you thought of those fire wings.”
“I was so young, I do not remember it,” he’d answered, leaning against the wall and watching her. “Besides, it is no longer what it once was. I told you, it is not even called Nordrir anymore. It is known as The Requiem.”
She resisted the urge to flip him off as she placed her fingers in his palm, but then he yanked her forward, his arm curling around her waist. “I will convince you to fly with me someday,” he murmured into her ear. “Absolutely not.” He made a low humming sound of contemplation, his lips brushing her temple. Then he asked, “Are you ready, mai dragocen?”
So excessively violent, mai dragocen, Razik purred down the bond. Her lips did twitch then.
She looked at Razik. “You take the sky, I’ll take the ground?” “Do I actually get to do something now?” Razik asked, arching a brow. “Do you not want to join me in excessive violence?” A wicked grin of his own appeared. “Always, mai dragocen.”
When sword met sword, her fire rushed down her blade, wrapping around his. She paused for the briefest of moments because that had never happened before. Bronn let out a yelp and dropped his sword as if it had burned him. Which was also odd because he had fire magic and shouldn’t be able to feel the burn of flames. Bronn’s eyes went wide in shock a moment later when she sank the still burning spirit sword into his chest.
Razik, she hissed. But then a spiked tail was shattering the terrace doors before a black diamond-shaped head appeared, smoke furling up from his snout. Sapphire eyes went directly to her. “All of them except the one sitting on his ass,” she said. So excessively violent. She could hear his dark laugh down the bond as he opened his mouth. The guards began scrambling, but it didn’t matter. Dragon fire erupted into the space between her and the throne. And when the guards were no more than fluttering ash, those black flames brushed against her own in a caress.
She sent her sword to a pocket realm. She’d clean it later. Then she yanked the tie from her hair that was already half out of its plait. The sound of footsteps had her turning, then she froze, her fingers still tangled in her mess of hair. “You’re naked.” “Violent and observant,” Razik replied. She sent him a bland look while she continued to unwind her hair. “Why are you naked?” “I shifted.”
Razik shrugged. “You wanted to be naked?” “I always want to be without clothing around you.”
“And for the love of Anala, someone find my twin flame some godsdamn clothes.” Razik smirked at the very public statement of claiming, and she jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t say a godsdamn word.” Of course he opened his mouth anyway. Or he did down their bond. Violent, observant, a liar, and possessive. I swear to Anala, Razik.
He started walking her backwards, and she broke away to gasp, “We are not fucking on Sorin’s throne.” “But it’s yours,” he countered. “Gods, what is your obsession with—” Her eyes flew wide. “A throne is not godsdamn treasure, Raz.” “One could argue a throne is very valuable,” he replied, mouth dragging down her neck as he tugged aside the collar of her tunic. “Fuck me against a wall like a normal person,” she gasped when his teeth sank into the soft place between her neck and shoulder.
“And the throne?” “Oh my gods, Razik,” she chided. “Stop with the throne, and I’ll get you some treasure from Sorin’s vaults below.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’ll circle back to this topic.”
They were nearing the bridges when he said, “You could wear a crown too.” With a hard shove, she had him tumbling into the Tana with a splash. His laughter followed her across the bridge, and she found herself smiling like a fool.
“He will be honored, Briar,” Sorin said after a time. “When we have reclaimed our lands, and when the realm is at peace, he will be honored. Sawyer. Nakoa. Finn and Sloan. All of those who gave their lives so that the realm might retain its freedom will be remembered.”
