5. Darrokar
FIVE
DARROKAR
The sight of her, drenched and defiant in my bath, sent a blade of desire straight through me.
She didn’t cower. She didn’t plead. Instead, she faced me with those striking green eyes, her chin tilted in a warrior's challenge, shoulders squared as if daring me to push her further.
Water streamed from her soaked clothes, rippling around her, but she gave no sign of discomfort. She was magnificent—a contradiction of softness and steel, fragility and stubborn defiance.
I couldn't stop the grin before I let a low, rumbling laugh escape, filling the chamber with its echo. It wasn’t a sound I often made, and it caught even me off guard. Her head tilted slightly at the sound, her eyes narrowing, but not before I caught a flicker of something—confusion? Surprise? Perhaps something deeper that she hadn’t meant to show.
Desire warred with my warrior-strong self-control. Everything about her—her scent, her defiance, her very presence—tested my patience in ways nothing had before.
It wasn’t just the mate-bond roaring beneath my skin, demanding I claim what was mine. She wove herself into my senses, made me hyper-aware of every breath, every subtle change in her expression.
This was a battle, but not one I could fight with claws or sword.
I turned away, stalking toward the massive window that overlooked my city, my back to her now. The pull she had on me was maddening, but I needed the distance to collect myself. My wings flexed as I drew a breath that seared hotter than molten rock, willing my control back into place.
Below us, Scalvaris sprawled out in all its harsh beauty. The rushing river snaked through the city, our lifeline and what made Scalvaris habitable. Great towers of obsidian rose high, their jagged spires glistening in the glow from the water and sky shafts that let in the light. Warriors trained in the combat pits, the sound of steel cutting through the air even faintly audible here .
I pointed out the window. “Scalvaris,” I said firmly, the weight of the word sharp in the chamber. It fell heavy between us, and I stopped myself from glancing back at her, curious to see if she would recognize the significance of the gesture.
She’d shifted in the bath, her eyes now fixed on the scene beyond the window. Something shifted in her expression—curiosity, maybe even wonder—as her gaze swept over the city. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but the faint parting of her lips, the way her brow softened for just a moment, betrayed her. And then it was gone, neutral steel replacing it once more.
“Scalvaris,” I repeated, louder now, drawing her attention away from the view. Her eyes darted to me, wary again as if she thought I might try something. I lifted an arm to gesture toward the city and held her gaze. When I spoke the word a third time, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if realizing my intent. And then, slowly, she attempted to repeat it.
It wasn’t a perfect approximation. Her voice rounded the edges, softened the harsh crack of the "v" sound. But it was enough to make the mate-bond snap taut within me, the word sparking something dark and deep. It didn’t matter how far she’d come, how different her people might be.
There she was, speaking my language, standing in my city. Nowhere in all the stars could fate weave something more potent.
I nodded slightly, encouraging her.
“Scalvaris,” she said again, more force this time. My chest rumbled with satisfaction. The mate-bond burned brighter, tighter. My mate. My future. All I had to do now was convince her to accept what I already knew.
I crouched low beside the edge of the bath, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her body. That scent—wariness tinged with fear—hit me again, sharp and unwelcome. It was a knife pressed against my warrior's instincts, demanding I tread carefully when every fiber of my being told me to act. My claws scraped against the stone tiles beneath me, but I forced my hands to remain steady, curved inward to show that, for now, I meant no harm.
The bond howled within me, insistent and unrelenting. Soothe her, it demanded, shield her, claim her.
My instincts roared their agreement in a frenzy, but I smothered them the way I had hundreds of times in battle—as a leader, not a beast. This wasn’t the moment for dominance or possession. Not yet. Not until I could strip the fear from her gaze and replace it with something far more potent.
My eyes drifted to the tray of food one of the servants had brought earlier. Crystal fruit, redclaw meat, lava-crusted bread—sustenance meant for warriors, each piece glistening and steaming in its fresh preparation.
Her eyes darted to the meal, then back to me. I saw it then, flickering just beneath her defiance—a flash of carefully guarded hunger. She wanted it, needed it, though she wouldn’t dare reach for it. Not yet. There was too much uncertainty between us, too much unknown.
And still, she watched me, her jaw tight, her battered resolve holding firm even as her body betrayed her needs.
Magnificent.
But my control was wearing thin. The weight of her closeness, her scent, and the heat of her presence soaked into me like magma against stone. She didn’t yet understand who—or what—I was.
Without a word, I stood, shrugging off the leather armor with practiced ease. My tail curled behind me as the heat in the room licked at my exposed scales, every inch of me unrepentant and bare. I didn’t look away from her as the last piece fell. Her wide eyes snapped to me. Lower, to the thick cords of muscles across my chest. Lower still as her gaze followed the long, scaled length of my tail … the hilt of my cock beneath my abdomen.
Her attention lingered, her pupils dilating, and for a single beat, every shield in her expression fractured. Surprise. Curiosity. Something darker that made the mate-bond growl with triumph. And then she realized I was watching her. Her head jerked back up, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade. She threw her gaze back towards the city.
I let my wings unfurl slightly, the movement calm and deliberate as I stepped into the bath beside her, silent except for the faint lap of the water against stone.
She stilled completely, her shoulders locking tight, her breathing quick but shallow. I could see the tension in her frame, the churning war inside her between fear and something she likely couldn’t name.
“Relax,” I murmured, though I knew the word was foreign to her. My voice came softer than intended, a low rumble that settled into the space between us. She didn’t flinch—good—but those brilliant green eyes tracked my every move.
I sank into the water, the temperature comfortably warm, not as scalding as I preferred. My wings folded inward, creating a faint ripple that reached her side, and I settled just close enough that we mirrored each other’s height. She had no claws, no scales, her skin bare and fragile-looking in comparison, and still, she met my presence with an obstinate boldness that made the mate-bond pull even tighter.
I reached out slowly, careful not to startle her as I took her arm in my hand. Her skin was alarmingly smooth, so warm and delicate under my touch it felt like the barest whisper of sensation against my clawed fingers.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away. That was a start.
With quiet precision, I lifted her hand and gestured out the expansive window overlooking the city. “Scalvaris,” I said clearly, annunciating each syllable. I pointed across the vista of molten rivers and obsidian towers, my tone firm but unthreatening. “My city. Your new home.”
Her eyes followed my gesture, her focus drawn to the pulsing life of Scalvaris below. For just a moment, awe replaced the fear and tension, softening her expression into something unguarded and raw. My chest swelled at the sight. My mate, alien and utterly foreign to my people, was looking at the city I ruled with the wonder of discovery. I would show her all of it.
But for now, simple gestures and intention would suffice. I pointed again to the training yards where warrior-screams echoed faintly through the haze of heat rising over stone and steel. “The combat pits,” I rumbled. Then, I shifted my hand to the obsidian tower glinting just shy of the cavern roof’s reach. “Our council.”
Each word was deliberate, shared slowly, my tone even and unthreatening. She didn’t understand the meaning, not fully, but her attention never wavered, her focus locked on both my gestures and my expression as though committing every detail to memory.
She was observant. That was all I could ask for now.
When I shifted to gesture again, her attention caught on the movement, and I felt her gaze dip—briefly but clearly—to my tail.
Ah.
Her frightened posture twitched like a flame. Not with pure terror. Something instinctual flared in her gaze, carefully muted by fear, but noticeable to someone as attuned to her every breath as I was.
No shame, no coy retreat. That tension I’d noticed, the fire buried under that vulnerable surface, promised far more than mere resistance. It brought an ache to my groin, a patient, steady throb I longed to sink into her softness. But not yet. Not until she understood what she'd awakened.
I turned my head toward her again, leaning just a breath closer, tipping the balance between cautious distance and deliberate proximity. Her eyes snapped back up to mine, startled—the connection immediate.
My lips curved into a slow smile, and I felt a flicker of power shift between us.
“For now,” I murmured, my tone quiet but heavy with intent, “you’ll learn.”
She wouldn’t understand the words—but her gut instincts might. Those flashes of curiosity, the way her body reacted but didn’t fully retreat, whispered to me of possibilities far greater than whatever distant stars birthed her.
One step at a time, my beautiful, fragile mate. I would teach her. About language, about trust, about belonging. About me.
I reached for the crystal fruit first, its translucent, glistening flesh catching the chamber’s dim light. I held it in my claws and said the word clearly. “Krysfruit.” Turning to her slowly, I brought it to my mouth, taking a quick bite while keeping my eyes locked with hers.
She watched silently, her hands wrapped defensively around herself. I held the half-eaten fruit out to her, no words this time, just the offering. This was no trick. I didn’t speak for her benefit, but for mine: “Krysfruit.”
She didn’t move at first. The tension between us lingered, thick as the heat of molten rock.
But after a long moment, she reached out slowly for the fruit, her wet fingers brushing the hard planes of my claws as if testing if I’d snap them closed like a trap. The soft contact of her skin against mine was electric and devastating. It stripped the air from my lungs, leaving only fire and smoke behind.
Mate. Mine.
Her lips parted slightly as she inspected the fruit, her mouth moving as though trying to form its name again. And then, without warning, she bit into it. Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened at the burst of flavor. Surprise colored her face, quickly replaced with something deeper—pleasure? Gratitude? It was fleeting, but I caught it. She inhaled deeply and finished it in two bites.
“Here,” I growled softly, reaching for something else to distract from my rising instincts. “Redclaw,” I explained, pulling it slowly from the tray. She mimicked the word, though her accent mangled it more than the last. I didn’t care. Each broken syllable warmed me in ways I didn’t think possible.
Piece by piece, she sampled the foods I handed her, every repetition of my language satisfyingly imperfect and wholly hers. The tension in her posture eased, her guard dropping under the weight of small kindnesses she clearly hadn’t expected.
So when I reached to wipe the juice from her lower lip, the act surprised us both.
The angle of her jaw fit perfectly in my palm as I brushed the pad of my thumb against her skin, careful not to scratch her with my claw. Soft. Too soft for a warrior and yet utterly captivating. Warmth sparked across her flesh and into mine, lighting a fire that demanded to be fed.
Her lips trembled almost imperceptibly, her body leaning forward ever so slightly, a conflict she likely couldn’t name flickering in those eyes.
She was aroused. And afraid.
I withdrew my hand before she could pull away, ripping my palm from her jaw with such force it was as if I were severing the bond itself. She blinked, the moment broken as confusion colored her features once more. The mate-bond screamed at the distance. My discipline howled at the thought of pushing her too fast. I exhaled heavily, standing with my wings slightly mantled in frustration.
“Rest,” I said gruffly, motioning to the food cart before kicking the impulse down further into silence. My gaze lingered just a second longer before I climbed out of the tub and stalked toward the adjoining chamber.