Chapter 5
Tess
I stared, transfixed, as recognition dawned. It was Draven—the impossibly handsome incubus I'd seen in class. Water ran in rivulets down his chiseled chest and abs, following the intricate lines of his tribal tattoos. His long, curly black hair clung to his shoulders, framing a face that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves.
For a moment, neither of us moved. I felt a blush creeping up my neck, my heart hammering in my chest. I knew I should look away, but I couldn't tear my eyes from him. The setting sun cast a golden glow on his wet skin, making him look almost otherworldly in his beauty.
Honestly, he looked like Jason Momoa after a glow-up, if that were even possible. How was it fair for someone to be both an absurdly attractive fantasy novel stereotype and real? My brain short-circuited somewhere between appreciating his artfully carved abs and noting how the long curls clinging to his shoulders only added to his wet-god-of-waterfalls aesthetic.
Draven's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Enjoying the view, Tempest?" His voice was low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of the evening.
I blinked, suddenly realizing he'd used my name. "How do you know who I am?"
He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "You're the only human to have bonded with a dragon. Word travels fast around here, especially when it comes to someone as... unique as you."
I swallowed hard, finally managing to avert my gaze. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. Thalon suggested I take a walk, and I... I didn't expect anyone to be here."
He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "No need to apologize. It's a public river, after all." I heard the splash of water as he moved, and when I dared to look back, he was waist-deep in the river, preserving some semblance of modesty.
"I can go," I offered, though a part of me was reluctant to leave.
Draven shook his head, water droplets flying from his hair. "Stay. Unless my presence makes you uncomfortable?" There was a hint of challenge in his voice, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement.
I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him see how flustered I was. "Not at all. I came here to clear my head, and I intend to do just that."
"Ah, the upcoming survival challenge weighing on your mind?" He moved closer to the bank, and I found myself tracking the movement of water over his skin.
I nodded, grateful for the change in subject. "Among other things. It's been... an overwhelming day."
Draven's expression softened slightly. "I can imagine. It's a lot to take in, especially for someone new to our world."
There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sound of the rushing river. "You know," Draven said, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone, "Sometimes the best way to clear your head is to stop thinking altogether."
Before I could ask what he meant, he ducked under the water. When he resurfaced, he was grinning. "Come on, Tempest. The water's perfect."
I hesitated, torn between the temptation of the cool water and the propriety of joining a naked man—much less an incubus—for a swim. "I... I don't have a swimsuit."
Draven laughed, the sound rich and inviting. "Neither do I, in case you hadn't noticed. But if it makes you feel better, I promise to keep my eyes closed."
As Draven dutifully turned his back, I stood frozen on the riverbank. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the hem of my shirt, but my mind snarled with hesitation.
I couldn't help thinking about all the times my mother had pinched the extra bit of weight around my belly, poking at it with mocking disdain. The memory of her voice, dripping with condescension as she joked about "baby fat" that hadn't disappeared with adulthood, echoed in my ears. Even now, I instinctively pulled my arms tighter around myself, as if shielding that part of me.
I glanced at Draven standing casually in the water. It was no secret that Incubi were beautiful; they were supposed to be, part of their demonic allure. Draven was no exception—his body, his face, everything about him seemed carved to perfection, effortlessly sensual. Could he even see someone like me, with my imperfections on full display, and still find me attractive?
Before I could spiral any further, Draven spoke up, his voice carrying over the soft rush of the river. “If you’re worrying about how you look—I can feel your energy, Tempest. You’re more tense now than before.”
I blinked, surprised by how easily he could read me, even from behind. I opened my mouth to brush it off, but he turned back around, slightly shifting so I could see his face. His eyes met mine, softer now, the usual teasing glint replaced with something intensely sincere.
"Let me tell you something," he said, his hazel eyes locking onto mine. "All women, Tess, are beautiful. The softness of their curves, the way their bodies are shaped by life, by experience. It’s not just the physical, it’s their essence. Every woman I look at—or touch—has a different kind of beauty that pulls me in."
Something in his tone made the hairs on my arms rise. It wasn't just a line or smooth talk. His words rang with a deep truth that reverberated somewhere inside me. The heat that had started in my cheeks began to spread through my entire body, but this time, it wasn’t just from embarrassment or insecurity.
He smiled then, easing the tension that had thickened between us. "But if you’re still unsure," he teased, lowering his voice to a playful murmur, "I can always prove that I find you desirable."
With that, his feet shifted, and he stepped forward into shallower water, where the sunlight caught and revealed more of his form beneath. There was no mistaking the evidence of his desire—a bold, unapologetic invitation that left no room for doubt or question.
I sucked in a breath, caught somewhere between mortification and temptation.
Draven chuckled at the look on my face, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Unless you think this is all just a natural occurrence,” he added with a wink, his confidence never wavering.
It was almost impossible not to laugh, the absurdity of the moment slicing through the lingering insecurities like a burst of fresh air. He wasn't just teasing me—he was giving me permission to feel comfortable as I was. And, surprisingly, I did.
"Alright, alright," I said, shaking my head with a grin. The river's call, coupled with his surprising vulnerability, made me decide. I tugged off my shirt, feeling the cool breeze against my skin, followed by the rest of my clothes, though mindful to keep some distance from Draven.
I dipped my toes into the water, gasping softly at the cold. It wasn’t long before I was neck-deep, the river swirling around me, and I could feel both the chill of the water and the heat of Draven’s gaze, even if he claimed he wasn’t watching.
“How’s the water, then?” his voice purred.
I let out a breath, feeling some of the earlier tension melting away. “It’s perfect.” I turned toward him, seeing that wicked grin once more.
He floated closer, still keeping a respectful distance but closing the gap just enough that I couldn’t help but notice the thickening tension between us. The river's cool water lapped softly around us, but beneath that surface, heat simmered, potent and undeniable.
The rational part of my mind, the one that normally kept me grounded, was struggling to be heard. This wasn't who I usually was. I was careful, I kept my walls up, always overthinking and analyzing everything. But something about Draven brought out a more daring version of myself, one I wasn’t familiar with. Maybe it was because recently, my life had become an outright fantasy—dragons, magic, supernatural beings, all of it too surreal to process in any logical way.
Standing on the threshold of a completely different world had made me braver, or maybe just more reckless.
"So, Tempest," Draven began, his tone lazy but probing, "What's it like being you? Coming into our world, bonding with a dragon, and suddenly being everyone's topic of conversation?" His eyes, framed by thick, wet lashes, seemed to study me with far more focus than I expected.
I swirled my hand lightly in the water, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. “Honestly? It feels like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.” I laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “Every day, it’s something new. More eyes watching, expecting, waiting for me to fail. Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning in it.”
He tilted his head. "You’re not one to drown easily, though," Draven said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “You've got something about you—resilience. Strength that most wouldn’t expect.”
His words struck a chord, and I found myself wondering just how much he could see. But instead of feeling exposed, his statement steadied me. Reassured me, even. I hadn’t asked to be special, hadn’t asked to stand out, and yet here I was. "I don’t always feel that strong," I admitted, my voice softer now. "I just… I don’t have much of a choice."
Draven let out a light, slow chuckle, the sound rich and smooth like the currents around us. "Funny how those of us who think we have no choice always end up being the strongest."
I gave a small smile. “Yeah, well... I'm not sure if it’s strength or stubbornness, but it’s getting me this far.”
“Stubbornness can be a virtue,” he said, eyes sliding back to meet mine.
I smiled at his words, their sincerity catching me off guard. This certainly wasn’t what I had expected—a deep, intimate conversation with an incubus while we were both naked in a river. Draven was supposed to be playful, seductive, maybe even smug. But standing here, without any pretense or armor between us, it felt... different. Maybe it was the literal lack of barriers—both physical and emotional—that seemed to strip away the posturing we usually wore.
I cleared my throat, hoping to break the weight of the moment before it suffocated me. “You’re awfully observant, Draven. But what about you? I don’t know much other than the fact that you’re probably one of the more mysterious applicants.”
Draven's grin widened, flashing teeth. “Ah, a mystery, am I? Let's see…the short version? Former military, left after a mission went sideways, and decided to start my own security firm.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Military? Sounds like there’s a story there.”
He chuckled, the sound low and throaty as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “Plenty of stories, most of them still classified. Let’s just say I handled things that never made the news.” His tone was casual, but something dark flickered behind his eyes, like a shadow he couldn’t fully shake off.
“And your firm?” I probed, intrigued by the layers beneath Draven’s smooth exterior.
“Aegis Elite Security,” he explained, shrugging one shoulder. “Put simply, I keep powerful people’s secrets safe. During the day, I’m the guy in a suit, negotiating contracts or bouncing entitled execs out of boardrooms. By night…well, let’s just say I have certain ‘skills’ that come in handy.” His eyes gleamed wickedly with that last comment, the weight of unspoken truths hanging between us.
The wry grin I shot him didn’t quite match the flutter of curiosity building in my chest. I sensed that Draven's “skills” extended far deeper than personal security, and I had the distinct impression that I was only scratching the surface.
“So a jack-of-all-trades,” I teased, raising my hand to splash at him lightly. His laugh echoed across the river, a smooth and easy sound that belied the hint of danger lurking beneath.
Draven's eyes sparkled with mischief as he suddenly cupped his hands in the water. "Come on, Tempest," he teased, his voice rich with playful challenge. "Let's see if you can handle a little storm of your own."
The splash caught me off guard, and I laughed in surprise. “Oh, is that how it is?” I asked, repaying him with a splash of my own.
The cool water arced, catching him across the chest, and he mock-gasped in exaggerated offense. “Now you've done it,” Draven warned, his eyes gleaming playfully as he swam forward with a speed that made my breath hitch.
And suddenly, we were laughing, splashing water at each other in an impromptu water fight. A couple minutes into the battle, he lunged forward, his powerful form cutting through the water with effortless grace. I squealed, trying to dodge, but his arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. For a moment, I felt the heat of his skin against mine, our bodies pressed together in the cool embrace of the river. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up, meeting his intense gaze.
"Okay, okay, you win!" I called through breathless laughter, raising my hands in submission. My palms rested lightly on his chest, and I could feel his heart racing beneath my fingertips. Draven stopped his splashing, his head tilting to the side with a smug look. Water dripped from his long, dark lashes, drawing my attention to his mesmerizing hazel eyes.
"Oh, I always win, Tempest," he drawled lazily, his voice a low rumble that I could feel vibrating through his chest.
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "You know, you can call me Tess ," I corrected, my voice quiet but firm as I met his teasing gaze.
For a moment, I wondered if he’d ever say my name without that silky voice dripping with temptation. Did he even know how to turn it off? How much of Draven was the incubus doing what he’d been born to do—seduce, entice, provoke—and how much of him was just Draven, a person beneath the demonic charm?
I supposed that was the thing about someone like him. You could never truly separate the two. And yet, standing this close, with that simmering tension between us, there was a part of me—I couldn’t deny it—that thrilled at the idea of being the storm he wanted to chase.
"Ah, Tess, is it?" Draven’s tone was a low hum, like honey slipping off the edge of a spoon. His hand stayed on my waist, fingers brushing the bare skin beneath the water. "Short for Tempest... but I think I rather like the storm beneath that calm surface."
My breath hitched, the tension between us now a palpable force, pressing down against my chest like the weight of the water itself. His hazel eyes flickered with something more intense than simple amusement, something that pulled me in deeper, until the world around us seemed to narrow to just this one moment, this one space between breaths.
And then I felt it—a subtle shift, at first, and then undeniable. The hard press of his arousal beneath the water, unmistakable against my thigh. Heat flared in my cheeks, my stomach flipping as I registered the growing pressure and the depth of desire reflected in Draven’s half-lidded gaze.
Oh.
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. The river, once refreshing and cool, now felt too stifling, too close. My pulse thundered in my ears, and my palms against his chest curled slightly, as if some part of me was instinctively bracing for whatever would follow. His hand slid up my spine, fingers tracing the line of my body as if testing just how much of my resolve would melt under his touch.
He leaned down slightly, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "I find you fascinating, Tess," he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "Every inch of you."
My chest tightened. The air, the water, the weight of his words—all of it crashed into me like a wave. My body fluttered, eager yet uncertain, lost somewhere between excitement and fear.
But then, I blinked, reality catching up to my spiraling thoughts. This was Draven. The man practically radiated sexual energy; he was an incubus, after all. It was literally his job to make people feel like this. I was just… caught up in the moment. Right?
I had someone who could help me figure it out.
"Thalon?" I sent the mental call out hesitantly, trying to plan what I wanted to say so as to keep the conversation brief. "I may have... accidentally interrupted Draven skinny-dipping in the river."
An amused chuckle resonated through the bond. "Ah, Draven. I must say, he's quite bold. Was this... encounter accidental on his part as well?"
"Pretty sure it was." I huffed, though I couldn't help the smile pulling at my lips. "Thalon, the thing is..."
"You're horny," he finished my sentence, chuckling.
"Thalon!" I mentally groaned, mortified. The mixture of embarrassment and lingering desire made it hard to think straight. This was so not how I wanted to bring this up, but there was no point in denying it now.
"Do you think... Could this attraction be because of his Incubus abilities?" My voice wavered as I spoke, vulnerability creeping in. After all, I wasn’t used to this kind of raw, intense desire.
I half-expected Thalon to chuckle further, but his response was surprisingly soothing. “No, little one,” his voice echoed in my mind, calm and amused. “The protection I placed on you should still be shielding you from any supernatural influence. Any attraction you're feeling right now, Tess…” He paused, a soft chuckle reverberating through our bond, “… is entirely your own.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the heat in my cheeks intensify. Great. So, this was all me, then. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as the realization hit home, making the moment even more potent. I was ridiculously attracted to Draven. No mind games. No incubus seduction tricks. Just raw, untamed desire.
Damn it , I cursed inwardly. I barely even knew this guy! And yet... my body was practically humming, vibrating on a wavelength that felt completely foreign to me. What the hell was it about Draven that made me react like this?
As if sensing my inner turmoil, Draven’s hand slid up, tracing the line of my spine slowly, purposefully, coaxing a wave of sensation through me. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Tess?” he asked, his voice soft, teasing, but with a dark undercurrent that hinted at deeper wants.
I gulped, trying to find my footing in the rush of conflicting thoughts and feelings swirling inside me. This is way too fast. I couldn’t deny that I was undeniably, achingly attracted to him, but I didn’t know him—I couldn’t just throw caution out the window and give in to this tension, no matter how tempting the spark felt.
"It’s, um… getting late," I stammered, taking a somewhat awkward step back. My skin still tingled where his hands had lingered.
Draven raised an eyebrow, amusement and curiosity flickering in his hazel eyes, though he didn’t push against my retreat. Instead, he offered a knowing grin, like he understood exactly why I was pulling away—and, of course, enjoying my flustered reaction.
"Late, is it?" His voice was a low purr, watching me with a dark intensity that made my pulse quicken all over again.
I cleared my throat, fighting to control my breathing. "Yeah, I, uh... have a lot to prep for tomorrow. You know, survival challenge and all." I winced inwardly at how unconvincing I sounded, but Draven didn’t call me out on it.
"Of course." Before I could process his next move, he'd shifted out of the water to stand waist-deep at the riverbank. His naked form gleamed in the fading light, water cascading down his perfectly muscled back, ass, and thighs. Without his flirty words to distract me, my gaze followed the lines of his body, my thoughts snagging painfully on the sheer perfection of him.
He turned his head just enough to look back at me, catching my staring. A wicked grin crept across his face as he stepped forward, reaching for his discarded clothes on the shore. “Well,” he said with casual ease, as if he hadn’t just turned my world upside down in the space of a few minutes, “I look forward to watching you in action... Tempest.”
"See you later,” I managed.