Chapter 19
Nineteen
Shaye
With Nyx being summoned and nothing else scheduled for the day, I decide to mosey through Magika Grammata to find Atlas' office.
He's holding office hours for students since he's been absent the last month.
I'm sure he's busy, but I don't intend to stay long.
Just long enough to give him a kiss and see exactly what his office looks like.
I've fantasized about what mischief we could get ourselves wrapped up in across his desk since he was first assigned to be one of my professors.
Now that seems a bit silly since we sleep in the same bed, but then again. He might be open to the possibility of a forbidden place.
At the end of the hall, I find a golden plaque screwed into the arched wooden door.
Professor Harland.
I knock, hoping he's not with a student.
"Come in," Atlas' voice bellows from the other side of the door.
I turn the knob and push the door open but stop dead in my tracks. Standing in the threshold, I pause and take a moment to drink in him and his office.
There are three arched windows overlooking another wintery day in Tronovia behind his mahogany desk.
On the left and right side of the room from the floor to the ceiling there are books on matching mahogany shelves.
A lit fireplace crackles and roars beneath a marble mantle with what I can only assume is one of Atlas' paintings hanging above.
Atlas is absentmindedly pouring over paperwork, his hair dips across his forehead as he concentrates.
When the stretch of silence has gone too long for comfort, Atlas finally tears his eyes from his desk and glances up at the door. The seriousness marring his face instantly fades into a familiar grin that heats my belly. He reclines in his leather armchair, his fingers twisting his pen.
"Well, hello," he coos. "I didn't expect to see you this morning."
"And who were you expecting?" I tease, stepping inside when he motions me forward and close the door behind me.
"Naturally, I'm expecting panicked first years who have countless questions since I've been absent the last month." His mouth quirks in one corner, eyeing me head to toe.
"Should I come back later, Professor Harland?"
My formality causes him to tilt his head to the side, and I know there are probably dozens of dirty thoughts flooding his head.
"You have a quizzical look," I press, enjoying the forbidden flirtation. "Something on your mind?"
In true Atlas fashion, he mulls over his next words carefully. His eyes darken and with a blink, switch from green to violet. "I'm wondering why you haven't locked the door yet."
I smile. Professor Harland wants to play. I lock the door and press my back to it. Motioning with a lazy hand, I say, "So, this is the infamous office."
Atlas sets his pen down and drops his hands to his lap, swiveling his chair left to right. "I wouldn't say it's infamous. It's just a professor's office. Nothing exciting in here."
"You're in here," I clasp my hands behind my back. "I'd say that's exciting enough."
The cut of my blouse shows off my cleavage, and I clock the exact moment he notices. He swallows and I watch the bob of his throat in girlish delight. "Feel free to come closer."
I fight the urge to make my way directly for him, instead taking a turnabout the room, dragging my fingertips along the bookshelves. "You know, I've wondered what your office looks like for quite some time."
"Is that so?"
I nod, swinging my hips with each step. "It's just as I imagined it would be."
His jaw clenches. Atlas' restraint is as admirable as it is annoying. "Why has it taken you so long to visit then?"
"Well, that's when I hated you so – "
Atlas' laugh echoes through the room. "Be truthful. You've never hated me, Strenlys."
"I did hate you," I argue.
"You mistake your unwanted attraction for me as hatred," his voice is low and seductive and damn, he's right. "We both know you've never hated me, just as I have never hated you."
I finally make it to his desk and sit on the corner. "Permit me to amend my statement," I whisper, enjoying how his hands flex in his lap. "When I strongly disliked you, I had thoughts about this desk."
His violet eyes darken. "What kind of thoughts?"
I allow my hands to light up, and he resituates in his seat. "Oh, Professor, I think you know what kind of thoughts I'm referring to."
He flicks his gaze up from my lips. "Indulge me."
"Why should I?" I tease. "Those are my private thoughts?"
"How else will I know how to spend the rest of my day locked away with you in my office, unless you tell me exactly what you want?"
Excitement blooms across my chest as I square myself to him. My legs straddle either side of him. His hands slowly drag up from my ankles to my knees with no plans to stop there. "I wondered what it would be like if you bent me over this desk and had your way with me."
All restraint leaves his body, done with the game of cat-and-mouse.
He stands, hovering above me. I tip my head back just enough to meet his hungry gaze.
"Oh, I'll do much more than that, Strenlys," he whispers and my skin instantly heats.
He leans down and kisses my lips, his hands making quick work in ridding me of my top, but before my breasts are exposed, I pull away and hop off his desk.
"Send word when your office hours are over, Professor. Then we can – "
Atlas' shadowy tendrils wrap around my arm and whip me to face him.
He grabs my ass, lifting me to set me back on his desk.
"Office hours are over." He peppers open mouth kisses against my neck, finding his way down my breastbone.
"And if you walk away from me like that again, I'll make sure this entire school hears how you scream my name when you come. "
My nipples harden beneath his featherlight touch. His calloused hands against the thin fabric of my bralette already has me seeing stars. Damn, the effect this man has on me is unlike anything I've ever known. "Maybe I want everyone to know I'm yours."
"Oh, they know." Atlas slips my top off and stares down at me. "I will never tire of the sight of you bare before me."
"I shouldn't be the only one topless, my love."
Atlas quickly thumbs his shirt over his head and drops it on the floor next to mine.
My entire body glows, filling his office.
His shadows spear across the room, enveloping us so my streaks of light don't penetrate the windows or beneath the door.
He captures my lips against his, sweeping his tongue in my mouth as I drag my fingernails down his back.
A loud moan escapes me. Suddenly the thought of students or faculty passing down the hall hearing me doesn't embarrass me. Atlas is mine and I am his.
Atlas grabs a fist full of my hair and tugs my head backward so he can pay attention to the sensitive area along my jawline. I arch into him, aching to feel more of him. To have him fill me. To unravel me.
"Atlas," I beg.
His fingers are already working to unfasten my pants when suddenly screams from the city erupt followed by a roar that rattles the windows. We peel away from one another. Atlas retracts his shadows and that's when we see him.
My eyes widen. It's not possible. It can't be. "Is that a…?"
"Black dragon," Atlas finishes when I trail off, just as surprised as I am.
The mighty beast darts for the forest where Draakstan is – where Seraxes is.
Shit.
"The dragons."
Atlas tosses me my top. My sexual fantasy will have to wait. My dragon might be in danger.
Adrenaline. Pure adrenaline is all that propels me through the Old Kingdom, through the woods, and to Draakstan. I ignore the stinging in my ribcage because Seraxes needs me.
I've only caught glimpses of the mighty Black Dragon soaring above us through the trees. The spear-like point of his tail, his sharp claws, the purple iridescence of his scales when he turns in the sunlight just right. He's a magnificent yet frightening beast.
The entire city is in an uproar. There hasn't been a Black Dragon spotted since the days Naya and Oryn walked this realm.
I recall everything I've learned about dragons thus far and remember Atlas saying Black Dragons were rare and hadn't been in Tronovia in nearly a thousand years.
They turn their enemies into pillars of salt and are some of the fastest dragons alive. So what was one doing here? Now?
"Come on, Shaye," Atlas grabs my hand and tugs me forward when I slow. "We're almost there."
Yes, we're almost to Draakstan but then what? We're no match for a Black Dragon and if he's instigated a fight with one of the Frost Dragons, all we can do is watch.
As we get to the gates, Thrane and my mother dart inside moments before we do. There's a gigantic thud that rattles the ground. I might have fallen had Atlas not wrapped his arm around my waist and steadied me.
Seraxes roars and it gives me the last bit of motivation to sprint into the arena. My mouth drops. Citizens brave or curious enough to risk grave repercussions fill the seats and gawk at the dragons filling the space.
"Seraxes!" I yell, but she pays me no mind. Her eyes are pinned on the newcomer and her fangs glisten in the sunlight. Despite being the smallest dragon present, she's ready for a fight.
Drexel, Artax, Corvex, and Syrinx form a half-circle, their ferocious gazes fixed on the Black Dragon, who doesn't seem worried by being outnumbered in the slightest. I thought Artax and Drexel were large, but they pale in comparison to this dragon of ancient days.
"What do we do?" I ask Thrane, who is now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me. He, too, seems at a loss for words which is very much unlike him.
"What can we do?" he responds, extra sass unnecessary. "What can we do against dragons? If we dart for them, the black beast will simply turn us into pillars of salt if he feels threatened."
"He's magnificent," Atlas murmurs beside me. "Never in all my wildest dreams did I think I'd lay my eyes on a black dragon."
As if the creature heard his whispered reverence, his head snaps our direction, eyes on us as he stomps forward.
He doesn't seem malicious, only curious.
But each step he takes, rattling the ground, is a declaration of ill-intent and Seraxes is having none of it.
She breaks rank and darts between me and the beast, roaring in warning.
The black beast roars in response, the blast knocking me off my feet.
Still, Seraxes doesn't yield her position.
I scramble to my feet and rush to her side.
As I get there, the black dragon bares his teeth only to snap his jaws closed once he sniffs the air.
Something shifts. His demeanor changes. But it's then I realize his eyes aren't on me.
He's staring at Atlas behind me. He moves closer so I throw a shield around me and Seraxes, but he's not interested in us at all. He circumvents us and trots to Atlas.
Atlas doesn't flinch, nor does he move, even when the people in the stands above him scatter.
He throws his hand into the air and I expect his shadows to make an appearance, but nothing happens.
He doesn't look concerned, he's so enamored by the dragon that he matches the beast's movement.
He walks forward until they're upon one another.
"Atlas!"
He reaches, cupping his palm until the dragon nudges his enormous muzzle against him.
Did the black dragon just… choose Atlas?