Chapter 12 Zara #2
He was looking after Nyxion with a tight, unreadable expression, something between irritation and nostalgia. Maybe worry. Maybe something she didn’t have a word for yet.
She squeezed his hand gently, pulling him back toward her. “What’s going on there?”
Hektor blinked, then smirked a little too smoothly. “We have a…complicated relationship. Kind of competitive.” His thumb brushed her knuckles. “But I know he’s got my back.”
She nodded. “I picked that up.”
“Come on,” he said, tugging at her hand. “It’s time for our reservation.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oooh.”
“Yes, I remember,” his gaze softened, the corner of his mouth lifting. “No brooding. With eye contact. And dessert.”
Her heart fluttered at the way he said it, warm and teasing, like he was saying I see you. I heard you. I want to do this right. She rose onto her toes and kissed him, a light brush that still pulled a shiver through him.
“I can’t wait,” she whispered.
The restaurant was traditional Drakkon in architecture and atmosphere.
They were shown to a booth tucked slightly away from the main floor.
The menu surprised her. There were plenty of dishes she recognized from the Upperworld, little comforts slipped between Drakkon staples.
When her eyes caught the cheeseburger, she didn’t even pretend to hesitate.
“Oh, I’m getting that,” she declared. “I’m American. It’s in my DNA.”
She didn’t care if it got messy. She hadn’t had a real cheeseburger in ages, and the sudden ache of homesickness hit her square in the chest. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed home until that moment.
Hektor nudged her lightly. “Then let’s go all out American.”
Which somehow led to burgers, fries, and milkshakes. By the end, she could feel herself glowing, practically hugging her milkshake glass.
“This was heaven,” she sighed. And she finally asked the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind. “So…the mating ritual?”
Hektor gave her a look that said you’re not supposed to know about that yet, and she lifted her brows innocently.
“Nyxion mentioned it,” she said.
He exhaled, resigned. “It’s…a tradition. A way Drakkon meet their potential mates. It happens once a year. Human females come to Drakkoria for the event, and Drakkon meet them, court them, see if a relationship forms.”
She blinked. “So, it’s like the centaur’s festival?”
“More or less,” he admitted. “But over a couple of months.”
“So only Drakkon and human women?”
“Yes. Drakkon are all male. Our species has always been that way.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “The last one you were part of was with Eleonora, right?”
“You know about that?” his brows drew together in surprise.
“How could I not?” she snickered, “The day we met. You’d tracked Lord Eros to our office, then burned Perseus’s desk.” Her lips curved. “You were so extra.”
A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth as he shrugged. The moment lingered between them, the humor easing into something more thoughtful. Zara’s smile faded as she turned the pieces over in her head, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass.
“Huh,” she murmured. “Makes sense why Nyxion assumed I was here for…that.”
A slow, territorial spark lit in Hektor’s eyes, and she bit back a smile. “And,” he added, leaning in a little, “it’s also why things can be… competitive.”
“I noticed,” she murmured, thinking back to the tension she felt between him and Nyxion.
He caught her hand, thumb brushing across her knuckles. “But none of that matters right now. This”—his gaze softened—“is what I want.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Good,” she said, soft but sure. “Me too.”
“So,” he flipped the dessert menu toward her. “What are we having?”
She didn’t even pretend to think. “Apple pie with ice cream. Obviously.”
Hektor’s mouth twitched like he’d expected that answer.
And when the server set it down in front of her, all warm crust, melty vanilla, cinnamon drifting up like a hug, she actually felt herself light up. She made an embarrassingly happy sound as she lifted the first spoonful.
The taste hit, and she closed her eyes, bliss washing over her. “Oh, my gods.”
When she opened them again, he was watching her like she was the dessert.
“It’s good,” she said, and scooped up a spoonful for him. “Here.”
He accepted it, lips brushing the edge of the spoon. “I’m not one for sweets,” he said, thoughtful, “but…that is good.”
“Well, lucky for you, I am one for sweets,” she teased, giving him another spoonful before he could protest.
This time, he didn’t look at the pie. He looked straight at her.
Heat tightened low in her stomach. The restaurant suddenly felt warmer. Or maybe that was Hektor, because a moment later she felt the light, slow curl of his tail along her thigh beneath the table.
Her breath hitched.
They leaned in at the same time, like gravity had finally stopped pretending it wasn’t involved, and Zara felt happiness bloom so hard in her chest it almost hurt.
Just a couple of days ago, she’d been unsure, flustered, trying to figure out what to do with all these new feelings and this impossible Drakkon who made her so frustrated.
Now here she was, in a beautiful restaurant in a magical city, with his tail sliding slowly along her thigh and making her feel things that should probably be illegal in public.
And the best part?
He was right there with her. Completely hers in this moment.
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she felt the slow, anticipatory curl of his tail tighten just slightly—like he couldn’t help himself.
Yeah.
She loved this.
She loved him like this.
Hektor dipped his head, just enough that she felt his breath brush her lips, and Zara’s whole body lit up in response. She reached for his shirt without thinking, fingers curling in the fabric, pulling him closer.
A soft sound rumbled in his chest, and his tail curled more firmly around her thigh, anchoring her to him. It didn’t feel possessive in a bad way. It felt…sure. Steady. Like he was telling her without words, I’m here. I want this. I want you.
Zara’s smile slipped into something softer, warmer. “I like it when you do that,” she whispered.
His gaze flicked down again, to her lips, to where her hand rested against his chest, before returning to her eyes. “Do what?” he asked quietly, voice low enough that she felt it in her stomach.
She grinned. “Act like you can’t help yourself.”
Hektor huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh, but it was swallowed immediately when Zara brushed her nose against his.
“Zara,” he murmured in warning, or maybe it was gratitude, or surrender, she couldn’t tell.
She didn’t care.
She leaned in the rest of the way.
Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss, sweet at first, then deeper, warmer, his hand sliding to her waist. His tail stroked up once, deliberate and unhurried, and she nearly sighed into his mouth.
The restaurant noise faded. The world faded.
It was just him, his heat, his focus, the way he kissed her like dessert didn’t matter anymore.
His tail inched higher under her skirt and along the curve of her butt, a slow, teasing sweep that made her breath stutter.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, voice low and rough as he grumbled, “What do you have against panties?”
She bit her lip, trying not to smile. “I’m wearing them.”
His tail slid up until it tapped the thin strap, the lightest brush of pressure. “Barely any,” he said, unimpressed.
She giggled, warm and breathless, then leaned in and kissed him, as his tail traced another slow line along her skin.
When they finally parted, barely an inch between them, she whispered, breathless, “Best. Date. Ever.”
His answering smile was slow and dangerous. “Zara,” he said softly, warningly.
But she could already feel him drawing closer. The table felt smaller. The space around them charged. Her entire being thrummed awake, aware, desperate for him.
Yeah…dessert had definitely been the right call.
He squeezed her hand once more before signaling for the check, his expression that perfect mix of fondness and trouble that made her heart skip.
“Ready?” he asked.
She smiled. “Always.”
The look he gave her stayed with her all the way home, coiled and waiting.
The moment the garage door closed behind them, Zara unbuckled her seatbelt like it was a race and slid straight into his lap.
Hektor barely had time to draw a breath before she was straddling him, hands on his jaw, mouth already finding his.
He didn’t protest, didn’t ask questions, or even pretend to be surprised.
He just kissed her back, one hand braced on her hip, the other sliding up her back as if he couldn’t get her close enough.
The heat between them ignited fast, faster than she meant it to, but she couldn’t help it.
Not after dinner, not after his tail, not after the way he kept looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth seeing.
He groaned into her mouth, and that sound went straight through her, made her hips shift against him in a way that had him tightening his grip.
“Hektor,” she breathed against his lips.
He answered with another kiss, deeper this time, his chest rising sharply beneath her. The car felt too small, too warm, too charged but neither of them made a move to leave. They stayed tangled in each other, losing track of everything except hands and breath and heat and the way they fit.
By the time he finally pulled back, barely an inch, they were both already panting.
“We’re not making it upstairs, are we?”
Zara shook her head, smiling against his mouth. “Not a chance.”
His hands slid down to her butt, gripping and squeezing, guiding her where he wanted her on his bulge.
She wriggled against him, a soft plea in the movement, and he took the hint instantly, his fingers under her thong where she wanted them to be.
The moment she felt him teasing her hole, she moaned, the sound slipping out of her before she could stop it.