Chapter 7 Gamble
Gamble
“Will you… change… when it’s time?” I ask, licking my lips to the taste of Sarak’s veins, hard cock.
I don’t need to wait long for an answer as my Daddy’s wings and tail reveal themselves to the sound of his roar. I’m surrounded by him. I couldn’t run, even if I wanted to. I feel so small, so submissive… and I love it.
“You’re mine now,” Sarak bellows, his wet cock bouncing menacingly as he steps closer and grabs me underneath the arms and lifts me upward toward his chest. “You know there’s no going back, don’t you?”
I nod and smile, my eyes wide with desire as I feel Sarak grab my ass cheeks and lower my ass hole onto the tip of his wet cock.
“Just do it,” I say, bracing myself. “Spilt me in half. Fill me up. Fuck me until I don’t know where I am. I’m yours, Daddy.”
And Sarak does just that.
I let out a long, high cry of pleasure and pain as my Daddy lowers me fully onto his wet manhood, my entire body trembling and convulsing as I feel him go all the way inside me. But before long, the discomfort is replaced by something else altogether…
“That’s it, you like it, don’t you?” Sarak growls, a knowing look in his eyes. “You like the feeling of a dragon’s dick buried all the way inside your tight little elven ass hole.”
I bite my lip and feel my eyes roll back into my head as Sarak starts to bounce me up and down, my once tight ass now accommodating the thickest, hardest, most devastatingly long cock I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.
Soon, we’re working in unison, and my hands are draped around Sarak’s neck, our lips and tongues intertwined as we kiss. I buck by hips, grind, and bounce, all in service to my Daddy and to make sure that after tonight, he never wants another elf again.
“Harder,” I plead, my fingers now digging into the back of Sarak’s neck, the urge to feel his seed shoot inside me growing almost unbearably strong. “Mmmph. More. More.”
With that, Sarak takes me off his dick and bends me over. Barely a second passes before I feel his cock plunge inside my ass once more and the protective touch of his wings wrap around me to fix me in place.
Sarak builds up the speed and power of his thrusts and in a moment of pure bliss, I feel his hot cum fire inside my ass. For a moment, I feel like I might pass out as I’m surrounded by stars, colorful constellations, and a feeling of togetherness that I have never come close to feeling before.
“Now you cum,” Sarak growls, gripping me, biting my neck and sending a shockwave of the most incredible pleasure-pain through me. “Cum for Daddy.”
And without even having to try, I feel my cock erupt in the most satisfying pleasure. My legs tremble and were it not for the support of Sarak’s hard wings, I would collapse on the ground right there and then.
“You are mine,” Sarak growls, his voice low and full of meaning. “And I am yours.”
In that moment, I summon the energy to push back for one final feeling of Sarak’s cock on my pleasure button as my dick shoots its final spurts of semen.
“Daddy, I say, my eyes shutting as Sarak eases his dick out of me and brings me in for a tender, warm embrace.
“Enough,” Sarak replies. “We’ll enjoy this moment in silence. We are connected. There are no need for words. Not now, anyway.”
I simply smile and allow myself to drift off to sleep in my Daddy’s arms.
There is danger around every corner, I know that to be true. But with a Dragon Daddy by my side, I know that I am safe from Revaster’s minions.
But whether that is true for Lord Revaster himself remains to be seen…
Dawn creeps over the us like a shy lover, painting the ancient dragon ruins in rose and gold.
Drak’Vahl rises around us—crumbling spires, vine-choked arches, the blackened crater at the center where once my ancestors and Sarak’s forged pacts in living flame.
The air smells of moss and old magic, and for the first time since I stole the fire stone, I feel something like peace.
Sarak stands at the edge of the forge-pit, wings half-spread to catch the breeze, the cursed halves of the stone cradled in his palms. I watch the way sunrise gilds his scales, the way his tail curls protectively around my ankle even now.
My body is tender from last night, not to mention deliciously used, but my heart—gods, my heart is a riot.
I clear my throat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Sarak turns, eyes molten. “I’m listening, little elf.”
I pull my mother’s journal from my pack, open it to the page I’ve avoided for weeks.
The ink is faded, but the words are branded on my soul.
“The fire stone isn’t just Revaster’s leash on the land.
It’s a blood-curse keyed to my family. My sister’s fading.
My parents’ lifeforces are tethered to it.
Unless the curse is broken by a union of elf-song and dragon-flame…
true union, willing and claimed… it will snap back to them at the next full moon. They’ll die. Slowly. Painfully.”
Silence stretches, broken only by wind through the ruins.
Sarak’s expression doesn’t change, but his tail tightens. “I know.”
I blink. “You… know?”
“I pieced it together nights ago.” He steps closer, voice gentle. “The way the stone drinks deepest when you dream of home. The way your magic flares protectively when you speak their names. I was waiting for you to trust me enough to say it.”
My knees buckle. I sink onto a fallen column, journal fluttering to the stone. “I was afraid if you knew, you’d think I was using you. Like the others.”
His face shutters. “Others?”
I swallow. “Two centuries ago, your clan was betrayed. I know all about it. Elf mages promised alliance, then siphoned dragon blood to fuel their wars. Your mother—” My voice cracks.
“Your mother was drained to fuel a spell that saved thousands of elven lives and left dragonkind broken. You were a fledgling. You watched her die.”
Sarak’s wings droop. “You read the forbidden histories.”
“I read everything.” I stand, close the distance until we’re toe to toe. “But it started long before that. Let me tell you the full truth—the one neither side likes to speak aloud.”
I gesture to the ruins around us. “Drak’Vahl wasn’t just a citadel.
It was the cradle of the Pact of Ember and Vine.
Ten thousand years ago, when the world was still raw, dragons ruled the skies and elves the deep woods.
We were enemies—dragons saw elves as fragile, elves saw dragons as arrogant.
Then came the Harsh Winter. Ice wights poured from the north, endless, mindless, hungry.
They froze rivers, cracked mountains, devoured entire clans.
“The first to fall were the Silverwing dragons—your great-grandmother’s line.
They fought alone, proud, and were slaughtered.
The elves of the Verdant Court watched from their crystal spires, debating whether to intervene.
My ancestor, Lirael broke protocol. She flew to the Emberfall and begged the Dragon Queen Veyra for alliance.
I pause and see Sarak looking at me intently.I know I need to keep going, to tell this truth.
“Veyra laughed. ‘Why should we bleed for tree-rats?’ Lirael answered by cutting her own palm and letting her blood fall into the Heartforge. ‘Because together we are unstoppable. Apart, we are ash.’”
Sarak’s eyes widen. “The Blood-Oath.”
I nod. “The first. Dragon blood and elf-song forged the Emberflame—a weapon that turned the war, united us. For a thousand years, we were partners. Dragon riders bore elf mages into battle. Cities rose where none had stood—sky-bridges of living vine and stone, forges that burned with eternal flame. My people learned to shift into light-forms. Yours learned to walk the dream-ways. We were one people, bound by blood and choice.”
I trace a rune on the column—two interlocked circles, flame and leaf.
“But peace breeds complacency,” I continue. “When the enemies were gone, the old grudges returned. Dragons hoarded knowledge and elves hoarded land. The Pact frayed. Then came the Betrayal of the Crimson Moon.”
Sarak’s jaw tightens. “I know this part all too well.”
“Do you know why it happened?” I challenge.
“The elf High Council feared dragonkind would turn the Emberflame on them. They struck first—lured the Emberfall clan to a parley under false truce, bound them with blood-chains, and drained them to fuel a spell that would sever the Pact forever. Your mother was the last to fall. She broke free long enough to burn the Council’s archive—and the spell with it.
But the damage was done. Dragons retreated to the high peaks.
Elves sealed their borders. The Emberflame was lost, and with it, ten thousand years of trust.”
I meet his gaze. “Revaster was a scribe in that archive. He survived the fire, stole the Emberflame’s echo, and twisted it into the fire stone.
He didn’t just curse my village—he cursed the Pact itself.
Every drop of dragon blood he’s spilled, every elf life he’s taken, is revenge for a betrayal neither of us committed. ”
Sarak’s hands tremble with emotion.
I cup my Daddy’s face. “I’m not asking you to forgive ten thousand years of pain. I’m asking you to choose something new. With me. The curse needs a willing bond—dragon and elf, fire and song. Not duty. Not guilt. Love.”
His breath hitches. For a heartbeat he’s motionless; then his arms crush me to his chest, wings folding around us like a cocoon. I feel his heart thunder against mine.
“Little elf,” he rasps. “You see me.”
I laugh into his neck. “Good. Now help me undo a curse.”
He pulls back, eyes fierce. “Together.”
We move to the Heartforge. The crater glows faintly—residual dragon-flame, banked but alive.
Sarak lays the stone halves in the center.
They fit together with a soft click, crimson veins pulsing like arteries.
I strip to the waist; he does the same. Runes carved into the stone light at our approach—recognition, welcome.
“Blood and song,” Sarak murmurs. “Willingly given.”
He slices his palm; I do the same. Our blood drips onto the stone—ruby and silver mingling, hissing where they touch. The runes flare. I begin the elven binding song my mother taught me, voice weaving through the air like green fire.
Sarak joins in dragonkind counterpoint, low and rumbling, the sound of mountains shifting. The forge answers—flame erupts, gold and emerald twining, licking up our joined hands without burning.
The stone screams. Cracks spiderweb; light pours out. I feel the curse tear free of my family—my sister’s laughter sudden and bright in my mind, my parents’ warmth flooding back. The stone shatters into dust, swept away on a wind that wasn’t there a moment ago.
We sag together, foreheads touching, laughing through tears.
“It’s done,” I whisper. “They’re safe.”
Sarak kisses me—soft, reverent. “Half done.”
The air turns cold. Black smoke boils from the forge, coalescing into Revaster’s towering form—beautiful, terrible, eyes like dying stars.
“Touching,” Revaster sneers. “But bloodlines are stubborn things.”
With a flick of his wrist, a vision pool blooms midair. My village—smoke rising, Revaster’s banners flying, my people on their knees. A captain raises a sword over my father’s neck.
“No,” I choke.
Revaster smiles. “They die at sunset unless you kneel, little thief. Bring me the dragon’s heart, and I spare them.”
Sarak’s roar shakes the ruins. He shifts—full dragon, massive and terrible, wings blotting the sun. I scramble onto his back as he launches skyward, the scrying pool shattering behind us.
“Hold tight,” he bellows.
We fly.
The world blurs—forest, river, mountain. Wind tears at my clothes; Sarak’s wings beat like war drums. I cling to his neck, elf-light weaving shields around us, illusions cloaking our path. Hours compress into heartbeats. The sun bleeds across the sky, racing us west.
My village appears below—smoke, screams, the clash of steel. Revaster’s forces swarm the square. My father on his knees, my mother shielding my sister. A blade raised.
Sarak dives.
Dragonfire erupts, a tidal wave of gold. Soldiers scatter, burning. I leap from his back mid-dive, roll, come up casting—illusions of a hundred dragons, a storm of emerald bolts. Villagers rally behind us, hope flaring.
Revaster steps from the smoke, staff blazing. “You’re too late.”
Sarak lands between him and my family, wings mantled. “Your war ends here.”
Revaster laughs. “A dragon and a thief against a god?”
I meet Sarak’s eyes. We nod.
“Together,” I say.
He breathes fire; I sing. Gold and green braid into a lance of pure light. Revaster raises his staff—but is too late. The magic hits him square, unraveling his form thread by thread. He screams, a sound of centuries of cruelty finally meeting justice.
The army falters, then breaks.
Villagers cheer. My family runs to me—alive, whole, safe.
Sarak shifts back, pulls me into his arms. “It’s over.”
I bury my face in his neck, tears freezing on my lashes. “We did it.”
“We did it together, as one,” Sarak growls.
Later, under starlight, my village feasts. Sarak sits beside me, tail curled around my waist, accepting toasts and shy curtsies. My sister tugs his wing, demanding a ride. He laughs—a belly laugh that fills my heart with joy—and obliges.
I lean into his side. “Think you could get used to village life, Daddy?”
He nips my ear. “Only if you promise to keep sneaking out of caves.”
I grin. “Deal.”
The fire stone’s dust is scattered to the winds. The curse is broken. Revaster is gone.
And for the first time in my life, I am exactly where I’m meant to be—safe in my dragon’s arms, mischief in my heart, and a future bright as dragonfire ahead.