CHAPTER 1
THE DRAGON
I trace one claw along her collarbone, careful not to break the skin. She's so delicate. So perfectly, maddeningly fragile.
"Another one came today," I tell her, my voice a low rumble in the darkness of our chamber. "A prince. From the eastern kingdoms this time. He had a sword blessed by some priest," I laugh quietly as my claw draws circles in her skin. "Thought that would be enough."
I've already bathed her today. That's part of our routine.
Every morning I carry her to the bath, wash every inch of her golden skin with water I've checked for it's proper warmth several times.
I'm careful with my claws, so careful. I use the softest cloths, custom make her silk and lace nightgowns with my own magic.
I wash her hair, work lavender oil through the strands until they shine like spun gold.
Then I dress her. Today it was the blue silk nightgown, the one that matches my wings. I have probably fifty for her now.
I brush her hair. One hundred strokes, every single day. I've done this for fifty years. Fifty years of caring for her, protecting her, loving her in the only way I know how.
I lean down, pressing my nose against her hair, breathing in her scent. Lavender and something uniquely hers, something I've memorized over fifty years. My wings shift behind me restlessly, the iridescent blue membranes rustling softly with my movements.
"He made it past the thorns. I'll give him that. Even made it to the tower stairs before I found him." My clawed hand slides down to cup her breast through the silk nightgown I dressed her in this morning. "He screamed your name. Called you his true love. Said he'd come to break the curse."
I laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "So I showed him what true love looks like."
My hand moves lower, over her stomach, down to her thigh.
"I pinned him down in the courtyard. Held him there while I told him about you.
About how I bathe you every day. How I dress you.
How I fuck you." I feel my cock beginning to harden against her hip.
"He cried. Can you believe it? Actually cried. Begged me to kill him quickly."
I slide my hand between her legs, feeling the warmth there.
"But I didn't. I used my smallest claw… this one…
" I hold up my index finger, the talon gleaming in the candlelight, "and I opened him up…
.right here." I trace a line down her stomach, gentle, reverent.
"Pulled his intestines out while he watched.
They're longer than you'd think. Slippery. Warm."
My fingers find her through the silk, rubbing slow circles.
"Then I wrapped them around his throat. Used his own guts to strangle him.
It took a while." I'm whispering against her ear.
I can see goose bumps pebbling over her skin.
She likes it when I talk like this. "He kept looking up at your tower window the whole time, even as his face turned purple. Even as he died."
She's getting wet under my touch. Her body always responds, even in sleep. Especially in sleep.
"He thought he was your hero," I murmur, pulling the nightgown up, exposing her to the cool air. "But I'm your hero. I'm the one who saved you from that life they had planned for you. From men like him who would have used you and broken you."
While laying on my side behind her, I position myself between her thighs, my cock already fully hard, already aching. "Only I know how to touch you. Only I know what you need."
They don't understand. None of them understand. I saved her from a political marriage, from being used as a bargaining chip, from bearing children for a kingdom that saw her as nothing more than a womb with a crown.
I give her everything. I keep her safe, warm, fed.
I talk to her for hours every day, telling her about the world outside, about the seasons changing, about how the forest grows wilder around us, protecting us.
I read to her from books I've collected.
Poetry. History. Romance novels that make me laugh because they get it all wrong.
This is love. This is devotion. This is what it means to truly care for someone.
I rub the head of my cock against her, feeling her wetness, feeling her body's want. The ridges along my shaft catch against her entrance, and I push forward slowly. So slowly. I've learned over the years that my Adelaide prefers when I fuck her slowly.
"That's it," I breathe, watching her face. Her lips part slightly as I enter her. "You're so tight. Always so tight for me."
I push deeper, inch by inch. My cock is too large for her, it always has been, but her body has learned to take me. The ridges help, each one dragging against her inner walls, stimulating her, making her wetter, making it easier.
"Almost there," I groan, my hand goes around her neck, the other clawed hand digging into the sheets beside her head. "Almost… fuck…"
I bottom out inside her, fully sheathed, and I have to stop. Have to breathe. The sensation is overwhelming. She's so hot, so tight, gripping every inch of me.
"Good girl taking all of me." I whisper as I kiss her ear. Her neck.
I don't move. Don't thrust. I just stay there, buried as deep as I can go, feeling her pulse around me. Can feel her pulse against my thumb on her neck.
I reach around her and feel the bulge of my cock through her stomach. I'm so large that I reorganize her insides when I'm fully seated inside her. Without moving my body, I caress her stomach where it bulges. Enjoying the feel of me this way.
I grab her hand and place it over the bulge. "Stroke me, sweetheart." I make her hand run up and down my length, pretending she's moving her hand herself.
"Perfect," I whisper, settling my weight more comfortably behind her and letting her hand rest on her stomach. My tail curls around her leg, holding her close. One of my wings drapes over us both like a blanket, the iridescent blue membrane warm and protective. "You're perfect."
I reach up with one hand, cupping her breast, finding her nipple through the silk bunched around her chest. I roll it between my clawed fingers, gentle, knowing exactly how much pressure she likes.
"They think I'm the monster. These princes. Your family. All these fools that continue to come to 'save' you. But I know the truth. I'm your savior. I'm your king now." I rub slow circles around her clit. Her breathing quickens slightly.
"He would have fucked you when he wanted and ignored you when he didn't. Called it honor. Duty. At least I'm honest about what I am. Who I am." I kiss a line from her ear to her neck. I suck marks into the skin as I continue to draw lazy circles around her clit.
I don't pretend this is anything but possession.
I don't dress it up with wedding vows and courtly love while doing the exact same thing.
Keeping her, using her, making love to her.
Making sure no other man ever touches what's mine.
The prince would have locked her up in a different kind of tower, called it a castle, and expected her gratitude.
I keep her safe. Perfect. Untouched by time and disease or the cruelty of the world that would have used her up and thrown her away.
"A couple weeks ago your family started a new campaign to 'rescue' you.
Said they'd give the prince that rescued you an insane amount of money.
They've been coming to the woods more often now.
Did I tell you that yet?" I nip at her ear as I caress the bulge my cock forms on her lower belly.
I can feel the touch on my cock through her skin. I work to regulate my breathing.
The rage that fills me when I think about it is almost overwhelming. Almost makes me thrust hard into her, claim her violently. But I don't. I stay still, stay gentle, because my Adelaide deserves gentleness.
"Three last week alone," I continue, my voice dropping to a growl. "Knights this time, not princes. Mercenaries. They came with iron weapons and holy water. Thought they were so clever."
I rock my hips slightly, just enough to feel the drag of my ridges against her walls. She clenches around me, and I groan.
"I hung their bodies from the thorns. Let them rot there as a warning. But they keep coming. They always keep coming." My claws dig into the sheets, shredding the silk. "Why can't they just leave us alone? Why can't they understand that you're mine?”
I pull back slightly, then push forward again, starting a slow, deep rhythm. My hand never stops its circles around her clit, and I feel her getting wetter, feel her body opening for me.
"You're so beautiful like this," I murmur, kissing her neck, her jaw, her cheek. "So perfect. My perfect treasure. My perfect princess. You were made for me, Adelaide. Made to be loved by me."
I've told her this a thousand times. Ten thousand times. Every day for fifty years. And I'll tell her for fifty more, for a hundred more, for eternity if I have to.
"I'll never let them take you," I promise, my thrusts getting slightly harder, slightly faster. "I'll kill every single one of them. Every prince, every knight, every fool who thinks they can save you from me. I'll paint the forest red with their blood. I'll build mountains from their bones."
The thought of it, of protecting her, of keeping her safe from all those who would harm her, makes my cock swell inside her. Makes my need for her intensify until it's almost painful.
"Mine," I growl against her neck. "Say it. Say you're mine."
Of course she doesn't answer. She never answers. But I imagine she does. I imagine her voice, soft and sweet, telling me she loves me, that she wants this, that she's grateful I saved her.
"That's right," I whisper, as if she's spoken. "You're mine. Forever mine."
I thrust harder now, unable to hold back, my control slipping. The ridges on my cock drag against her inner walls with each movement, and I feel her clench around me, feel her body responding even in sleep.
"Come for me," I command, my fingers working faster on her clit. "Come on my cock, Adelaide. Show me how much you love this. Show me how much you love me."
Her breathing changes, becomes faster, shallower. Her inner walls flutter around me, and I know she's close. My perfect girl, always so responsive, always so good for me.
"That's it," I praise, my voice rough with need. "That's my good girl. My perfect treasure. Come for me. Come for your king."
She does. Her body tenses, her walls clamping down on my cock in rhythmic pulses, and I feel the flood of wetness around me. I groan, my own orgasm building at the base of my spine.
"Fuck, Adelaide. So perfect. So fucking perfect."
I thrust three more times, hard and deep, and then I'm coming, filling her with my seed, marking her from the inside. My bite mark on her neck throbs in time with my pulse, and I lean down to lick it, to taste her skin, to remind myself that she's real, that she's mine.
"I love you," I pant against her neck. "I love you so much. More than anything. More than everything."
I stay buried inside her as my orgasm fades, my cock still twitching, still releasing the last drops of my cum. My wings wrap tighter around us, cocooning us in warmth and darkness.
"I'm going to fall asleep like this," I tell her, my eyes already growing heavy. "Buried inside you. Where I belong. Where I've always belonged." My wings flutter around her. Encapsulating her in their protection and warmth.
I play with her other nipple, alternating between them, feeling her body respond even in sleep. Feeling her clench around my cock.
"Mine," I murmur, my eyes closing. "My treasure. My love.”
Sleep pulls at me, heavy and warm. I let myself drift, my body relaxed, my cock still inside her, my wings still wrapped around us both.
But just as I'm about to slip under, something tugs at my consciousness. Something wrong. Something... different.
I force my eyes open slightly, looking at her face in the dim candlelight.
Her lips. They're... parted. More than usual. And there's something about the way they're positioned, like they've moved. Like they've actually moved.
I stare at her mouth, my heart suddenly pounding. That's not possible. The curse keeps her completely still, completely frozen. Her mouth doesn't move. It never moves.
But I could swear... earlier, when I first entered her, when I was watching her face... I could swear her lips parted. Not just from the pressure of my cock inside her, not just from her body's response, but actually moved. Like she was trying to speak. Like she was trying to...
No. That's not possible.
I'm imagining things. I must be. Fifty years of the same routine, the same stillness, and now my mind is playing tricks on me.
But the unease doesn't fade. It sits in my chest, cold and heavy, even as sleep finally claims me.
Something is wrong with the magic.
Something is changing.