Chapter 41
Forty-One
Dominance
The Commander lifted me into his arms without hesitation, and I curled into his chest, breathing him in. He smelled like cool night air, sharp and clean, softened by the deep, molten sweetness of caramel that made my mouth water.
It was the smell of safety, of what had become home. The rising storm inside me slowed and panic melted away.
“Fuck the alliance,” he murmured, voice raw. “I want to watch you drown every single one of them.”
A small smile curved my mouth, not because he was right—we needed the alliance, but because he had accepted me. All of me. Even the darkest parts.
“I want to, but the Fates said to unite the Kingdoms to stand against the Seven Hells.”
They had also said if I didn’t save the Commander, I would become the destroyer of everything, but I kept that to myself.
A muscle ticked in the Commander’s jaw, and he lowered me gently onto the edge of the bed. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip.
He was the missing piece I had needed to feel whole, and somehow, he had been holding a part of my soul for a thousand years—waiting for me to claim it.
The Fates were right about one thing. If I couldn’t save him from his darkness, I would drown the whole fucking world.
“I cannot face them just yet, Little Drownling,” he said, voice low, frayed. “Not when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I taunted, knowing full well I was staring at him like he was the moon that pulled my tides.
His eyes darkened, devouring me where I sat in my silk dressing gown, the thin fabric slipping down one shoulder.
“You know exactly what you are doing,” he said with gravel in his voice, pushing up the sleeves of his black button-up shirt over his corded forearms. Gods, how did he look more devastating this way?
“Maybe I do,” I said, leaning forward and gripping his belt buckle. His breath faltered. Just slightly. Just enough for truth to spill into the space between us. He needed me just as much as I needed him.
His forehead pressed to mine, breath shaking, lips barely brushing mine. “Lyra,” he whispered, like a prayer and a threat rolled into one.
I closed the distance and kissed him, pouring every overwhelming feeling I couldn’t voice down our bond.
I forced his lips apart and drove my tongue in without permission. He made a low broken sound beneath me, instinctively yielding as I set the pace and refused to let go.
My hands slipped up his chest, over the soft fabric of his shirt, the hard muscles shifting beneath. I ripped at his shirt and the buttons popped free as the fabric tore beneath my grip.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my mouth, clearly struggling to let me stay in control.
“You are testing my restraint, love.”
I broke the kiss and smiled wickedly up at him, teasingly trailing my hands up my body and letting the dressing gown slip down my shoulders.
He watched with rapt attention as my fingers dragged slowly over my aching breasts, mouth twisting in a snarl against the pain of his shadows attacking him.
“I respect you—remember that,” he warned, his voice so deep it rumbled through me. “Because what I am about to do will make it seem like I don’t.”
“Show me,” I breathed.
He groaned, a deep, devastated sound, and shoved me backwards onto the mattress.
His body caged mine, held up only by the last thread of restraint he possessed.
His lips trailed along my jaw, down my throat.
His hand slid under the edge of my gown, fingers tracing the bare skin of my thigh.
My hips tilted forward, eager for his touch.
His canines sank into my neck with two sharp stings. They disappeared instantly, replaced with the warmth of his mouth suckling against my skin. He pushed the silk dressing gown up my thighs, skimming a finger down my overheated flesh and I gasped.
“Already so fucking wet for me,” he murmured against my neck before breaking contact.
He gripped my hips and I gasped as he flipped me onto my stomach with force.
I had always hated being controlled, yet something wild and unhinged in me answered to his dominance and made desire drip down my thighs.
He lifted me up onto my knees, forcing my back to arch and my face to press into the mattress.
“That’s it, love, spread those legs for me.”
A warm sting bloomed across my ass cheek as his hand struck bare skin. My lower stomach fluttered, need spiking sharp enough to tear a cry from my throat.
The bed shifted as he moved and the sound of his pants thudding against the carpet made my stomach flutter with anticipation. But I kept my head shoved against the mattress obediently.
His fingers pushed into me while his other hand gripped my ass.
“Commander!” I yelled into the blankets as pain melted into pleasure.
“You like that, don’t you,” he rasped in a voice like gravel. “Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.”
His fingers disappeared and his hard, pulsing cock pressed against my entrance. I moved forwards and he growled, gripping my hips to hold me in place.
“Grip the bedsheets, love.”
He rolled his hips forwards, plunging his cock inside me and stretching me open. My fingers fisted the bedsheets, knuckles whitening as I tried to adjust around him. He was too big like this. I couldn’t—
“You can take it,” he encouraged when I gasped and tried to squirm away. He leant over me and fisted my hair, slowly pushing into me to the hilt—
A sharp knock split the air. I froze, but the Commander didn’t stop moving in and out of me. Another knock, louder and more impatient.
“Commander,” Solas called through the door. “The Mortal king demands an audience.”
Dread swept through me, my panic threatening to creep up my throat and strangle me.
The Commander ignored it, ignored Solas, splaying his hand against my lower back to deepen the arch. When he thrust, he hit something so deep inside me I cried out in pleasure. Heat bloomed against my face, bright with embarrassment.
“Let him wait,” the Commander growled loudly as he made my eyes roll back into my head with pleasure.
“And when he asks why?” Riven drawled through the door, something dark undercutting his usually amused tone.
The Commander snarled, like an animal. I couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped me, even as heat flushed across my skin. He thrust into me with force, making me cry out again. I twisted to glare up at him, but his dark smirk made my insides turn to liquid.
“Then tell him I’m fucking his daughter,” the Commander yelled through the door.
His dark, beautiful eyes never left mine, and despite the harshness of his words, the warmth of love flooded the bond between us.
There was arguing behind the door, but I didn’t care. I only cared about the Commander. My Fated Mate. His hand slipped around my waist, sinking between my legs to circle against my clit.
“Cum for me love, let me make you feel good.”
His thrusts became merciless, his groans harmonising with my needy gasps.
A sound tore from me, soft at first, then deepening into a trembling moan threaded with the faintest echo of my magic.
My pleasure slammed into me and warmth spiralled outward, stealing every thought, every drop of humility.
My fingers clenched and my body shook as another cry slipped free before I could stop it.
Everything inside me tightened, then unravelled all at once, until I was a trembling mess beneath his deep, unravelling thrusts.
He roared with his own release, and his hands gripped me with bruising force as his cock spilled warmth inside me.
For a long moment, the room was nothing but breath. Mine was shaky, still trying to remember my own name. His was ragged and warm against the back of my neck as he held himself braced above me.
“Nice finish, Commander,” Riven called out, his usual charm warped by something darker as it cut through our intimacy. “Can we secure an alliance now? Save the Kingdoms? Or do you have another round in you?”
I buried my face in my hands, a breathless laugh slipping out.
“I’m going to kill him,” the Commander muttered darkly, pushing himself upright and slowly pulling out of me.
“Please don’t,” I said as I rolled over, though my voice shook with concealed amusement. “He was the first person to accept me for what I am.”
He sighed, cupping my cheek with a gentleness utterly at odds with the name the world had given him.
“Fine,” he said, voice low. “But only for you.”
A pounding fist knocked on the door and the Commander closed his eyes like he was counting backward from ten. “But know it is really hard for me.”
I laughed again and he helped me stand, steadying me as my legs remembered how to function.
“We need to go,” he said, voice gravel-soft but threaded with iron.
“Father will be furious that you made him wait.” A slow smile curved my lips at the thought of him feeling belittled.
His answering look was wicked as he crossed the room to the tall, carved wardrobe. I could not look away from the shifting muscles of his ass. No male had ever been so breathtaking in the history of the Kingdoms, it was like he was carved by the Gods themselves.
Silk whispered as he sifted through garments until he finally paused, deciding on something and turned towards me.
My breath caught. The dress he was holding was black, pure obsidian silk with long sleeves fitted closely to the wrist. Its bodice was fitted, cinched at the waist with delicate silver embroidery that resembled constellations.
The skirt flowed like melted shadow with a slit high enough that would reveal my legs when I moved.
The neckline was a deep, plunging V. Not like the modest, oppressing dresses of the Mortal Kingdom.
This was powerful, weaponizing my femininity into something that could draw blood.
“Wear this,” he murmured as he stepped towards me.
I let him help me into the dress, the silk whispering across my skin with a soothing coolness. His fingers lingered at the fastening, brushing the back of my neck with unexpected tenderness.
My wild hair spilled down my back in silver waves. I gathered it, trying to tame it into a braid, but his hands closed gently over mine, stopping me.
“Leave it,” he urged, holding my gaze for a long, unreadable moment. “One more thing,” he said quietly, crossing to the bedside table. He opened the top drawer on the side I slept on and pulled out the Soul Relic crown.
The iridescent shellwork shimmered as though alive. Pearlescent blues, greens, and silver threaded through the bone-white coral. When sunlight caught it, it glowed faintly, like moonlight trapped beneath the sea.
He stepped closer, eyes never leaving mine. He lowered the crown onto my head carefully. It settled against my hair as though it had been made for me.
I turned towards the mirror next to the wardrobe and gasped. The girl who stared back was not the broken princess my father had last seen. She looked like a goddess. Like the sea made flesh. Power curled beneath my skin, reflected in the silver-blue of my eyes.
Behind me, the Commander was still dressing. Black combat pants slung low on his hips, boots planted wide as he pulled on a black button-up and shoved the sleeves past his elbows, exposing the corded strength of his forearms.
My eyes traced the veins and ink as the hard muscle shifted beneath his skin. His black curls hung over his brows, dishevelled and wild from fucking me.
His darkness and shadows were thrown into stark contrast against my pale skin and silver hair. Light and dark. And yet beneath it all, we were broken in the same way.
A knock rattled against the door again and the Commander snarled.
“Are you ready?” he asked, grabbing my hand in his.
I nodded, not one part of me wanted to see them. But with the Commander at my side and my power thrumming in my veins, I knew they couldn’t break me anymore.
When the door opened, Riven lounged against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. “Finally,” he said darkly, raising his eyebrows and pushing off the wall.
Solas couldn’t hide his smile as he took us in but said nothing, for which I was grateful.
The Commander ignored them both, pulling me gently but firmly forward.
The corridor stretched before us, sunlight streaming through the large floor-to-ceiling windows cut into the mountain.
“The Mortal King waits with six others,” Solas briefed us as we walked. “The prince, his priest, a viscount and three soldiers.”
Aldric was here? My chest flooded with a strange mix of shame and hope. I hadn’t thought of him much since I read his letter, his apology. Anger crawled over its place. Did he know they were using my blood for power?
“The Iron Guard soldiers,” Riven added, keeping pace with us. “Are Commander Kragthorne, Captain Bronwyn and initiate Dreya.”
My step faltered, a small misstep, but big enough for the Commander to notice.
“A friend,” I said to him when he shot me a questioning look.
“If friends spear each other, then sure,” Riven scoffed.
“This Dreya, she is the one who speared you?” the Commander asked, fury swirling through bond.
“She was protecting herself,” I tried to explain, remembering the pure fear she had in her eyes when she had looked at me.
Riven walked with his hands in his pockets, a carefree smirk plastered on his face, but I didn’t miss the way his gaze kept flicking to my hand in the Commanders.
Fae soldiers and nobles froze in our path, eyes widening before they sank to their knees as the Relic crown on my brow glittered beneath the lights.
“They bow to you even in your own halls?” I asked in wonderment, not even my father had this sort of respect.
The Commander chuckled darkly, mouth pulling into a dangerous half smirk.
“They are not bowing to me.”
The words landed slowly. I had spent my life being arranged, displayed, and ignored. I was an ornament polished for other people’s power.
Not anymore.
We wound through the open corridors, coming to a foyer where Cerilla and Caelum waited. Caelum looked bored, as if this were beneath him, whereas Cerilla paced restlessly like a caged animal.
The Commander leant down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “If you won’t kill them,” he whispered. “Humiliate them.”
A thrill shot through my chest as a dark smile spread across my face.
The massive doors to the throne room loomed ahead, carved with swirling runes and the three-pointed star crest of the Obsidian Court.
I lifted my chin and let power ripple through my voice.
“Open the doors.”