Chapter 21
AURA
In the great room after dinner, the fire crackles, and spits in the hearth. Wind skims across the mountain outside in a low, distant howl. The old wood of the cabin groans.
The meal has been cleared away, though the scent of seared meat lingers warmly in the air. My skin still hums from the bath, and my body seems to wake more fully each time one of my dragons is near.
I should be tired.
I should be sated.
Instead, something more than magic stirs inside me. It’s an ache that runs deep and restless. My desire is alive and hungry.
I curl my bare feet beneath me on the wide gray couch, a glass of something amber that Darial mixed for me cradled between my palms, and I watch my dragon mates around the room.
Kelan stands near the windows, his arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if danger might rise from the snow itself.
He hasn’t been himself since the restaurant.
Ronyn leans against the bar, sharpening a knife that doesn’t need sharpening, his attention flicking toward me in brief, hungry glances he doesn’t bother to hide.
And Darial sits beside me, close enough that he warms me through the shirt that I’ve stolen for myself. Close enough that his thigh presses against mine.
Power seems to coil inside him, and his energy is so bright it makes my chest ache.
I’m no longer afraid of how much I want my mates.
It’s becoming natural now, like gravity or the pull of the tide.
My body grows heavy and hypersensitive, every nerve awake and exposed.
The runes along my hips and ribs flicker softly, responding to Darial’s nearness and the slow heat gathering low in my belly.
It’s as though he’s telling me everything he intends to do without speaking, the message traveling directly through the bond into my blood and skin. Perhaps this is another secret shared only between dragons and their mates; desire spoken in silence, understood without words.
I set my glass aside.
Darial notices immediately.
His gold eyes lift to mine, soft and knowing. “Do you need something, mate?”
“I can’t help it.” My voice comes out more breathlessly than I intend. “I’m never… it’s never… why can’t I get enough?”
His mouth curves faintly, but there’s no mockery in it. Only warmth. “Dragons do that to their mates.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit. “This… need. It’s like starvation.”
Ronyn huffs quietly from across the room. “The hunger in you always existed, Aura, but never felt free to express it.”
His blunt words make me blush, but maybe he’s right. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t watch couples and wish for someone to share my life. I never felt fully at ease alone. Now, with three men devoted to me, it’s no wonder I want them so much.
I turn back to Darial, who watches me with quiet steadiness, as if he has all the time in the world and intends to spend it waiting for me.
My hand moves before I fully decide. It lifts from my lap and finds his thigh, fingers curling into the solid warmth of muscle beneath soft fabric, magnetized to his form.
He watches the motion, every sense on high alert.
“Aura,” he says softly, like a question and a warning all at once.
“My body is humming, Darial. All I can think about are your mouths and your hands and…”
“Cocks?”
He smiles, and I swat him with my hand, flames of embarrassment reddening my cheeks. His breath leaves him in a slow, careful exhale.
“It is natural to want us.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ears. “As we want you. You’re precious,” he says. “To us all… and desired more than we could ever explain.”
Kelan turns slightly at the window, his silver eyes sharp and molten in the firelight. “You’re the blood in our veins, Aura.”
Ronyn’s knife stills in his hands, his attention fixed fully on me. “The flesh over our bones.”
“Our strength and heat and fire,” Darial says.
They speak with quiet intensity, their warm attention settling on me in a way that’s impossible to ignore.
But I find myself moving toward Darial, guided by both instinct and how close he is.
I climb into his lap and keep my eyes on his. His hands pause at my hips, holding back, waiting until I lean in and place them where I want.
My palms move over the firm lines of his chest, relishing the warmth and muscle.
I wonder what it would be like to touch him with magic instead of just my skin.
What could I give him if that power moved through me?
What would it be like to let go completely, with magic rushing through me while he responds just as strongly under my hands?
I shut down that train of thought before I stumble. If he discovers my magic is free, maybe he’ll find a new way to contain it.
Darial groans softly at the contact, his fingers tightening. My breath hitches.
“Mate,” he whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth.
His hands move slowly up my back, over my ribs, mapping me as if he’s learning a new language by touch. When his mouth finally finds mine, it’s warm and coaxing, a kiss that opens rather than devours.
I melt into it. My body tips forward, pressing against him, and he catches me easily, one arm braced around my waist. His other hand slides along my spine, into my hair, holding me gently in place as he deepens the kiss.
Everything else fades away as sensation takes over.
His tongue. My breath. The ever-rising heat between us.
Somewhere beyond us, Kelan adjusts his weight, and Ronyn exhales roughly, but they don’t step forward to join in. They watch, and the awareness of it sends a shiver down my spine.
I break the kiss first, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “Touch me.”
Darial’s eyes darken. “Where?”
“Everywhere.”
He smiles softly and a little wickedly, and his hands obey. They slide along my sides, over my hips, beneath the hem of the shirt, until his fingers find bare skin. I gasp as he traces the runes there and the symbols glow faintly under his touch.
“They respond to pleasure,” he murmurs.
I rock instinctively against him, seeking friction and chasing connection. He groans again, his head falling back briefly before he looks at me with that same careful patience.
My hand slips between us, finding his cock already rising beneath his clothes. He inhales sharply, eyes closing for a heartbeat.
“Aura,” he warns softly, but he doesn’t stop me.
His forehead rests against mine as I stroke him slowly through the fabric, driven by curiosity and desire. His hands tighten at my hips, steadying me when my movements grow bolder and when my breathing grows ragged.
Behind us, Kelan’s voice cuts through the haze, low and controlled. “She’s chasing the high,” he says.
“I know,” Darial murmurs back. “I’ve got her.”
I’m out of control and contained at the same time. It’s like I’m on the brink of bursting out of my own skin, and all that’s stopping me is Darial’s hands.
When he finally lifts me so I’m half-reclining against him, and his hand slides beneath the shirt to find the aching heat between my thighs, I gasp. His fingers move slowly, circling and teasing, and pleasure builds and swells like a storm.
I clutch at his shoulders, at his hair, my head tipping back as sensation curls through me, bright and relentless. The runes along my ribs flare faintly with each stroke.
“Kelan,” I whisper without meaning to.
“I’m here,” he answers from across the room.
“Ronyn.”
He moves closer, drawn by my call, but he stops short of touching. His gaze is molten, his breathing rough.
Darial keeps me balanced on the edge, his touch coaxing, guiding me toward that crest without pushing me over too fast. I shudder in his arms, breathless and crazed.
He holds me, and our bond pulls me closer, growing stronger with every touch.
Darial’s mouth is at my temple when I move against him. I press a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then another to his collarbone. His pulse flutters beneath my lips and his breath catches as I slide my hand over the soft linen of his shirt, curling my fingers around the hem and tugging gently.
“I want to see you,” I whisper.
His pupils dilate and flicker into the sliced gold of his dragon. The hand on my hip flexes, scales bursting forth until both arms and hands are covered. They shimmer like sunlight and honey, trailing down his ribs and vanishing beneath the waist of his pants.
I trace one of them with my finger.
He shivers.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur.
He sighs with contentment.
My mouth follows my fingers, kissing along the scales, learning his form. His body responds with a subtle tremor, hips shifting beneath me, cock straining against the fabric still separating us.
I slide lower, off his lap and between his knees. The fire casts him in molten gold, runes dancing across his chest, his breath visibly quickening as I unfasten his pants and ease them over his hips, revealing his full, aching length.
He isn’t fully human here either.
He’s long and thick, ridged along the top like the edge of a blade forged for pleasure. At the base, faint scales shimmer in concentric patterns, the same gold as the ones on his arms and ribs, encircling the part of his anatomy that fuses us.
I wrap my hand around him, and he hisses in pleasure.
“Aura,” he breathes. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
I want to worship him the way he has worshiped me. I want to understand him. I want to taste what makes him both human and dragon.
I stroke him slowly at first, learning the way his body responds. He braces one hand behind him, the other sinking into my hair as my mouth closes over the head of his cock.
His groan is low and guttural as I take him inch by inch, adjusting to the ridges. My tongue explores him, my lips sealing as I hollow my cheeks, coaxing each sound from him like a melody of lust and surrender.
“Aura,” he rasps. “Fuck—you feel like fire.”