Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
She wanted more.
Was it because my power met Korin’s power? Is that the difference?
The memory of it—of the moment her power surged, tore free, and struck that dragon—lit her from the inside out.
She had touched something ancient and divine.
And gods help her, Korin had somehow touched her back.
Her skin still hummed from him. Her thighs pressed tighter. Her hands shook with restraint as she lifted them again, watching silver veins pulse beneath her skin like river paths across a moonlit map.
The Lowly girl no one saw. . .
Had made a god shudder.
Had stopped flame with ice.
Had felt more alive than ever before.
And oh, it was dangerous.
Because now she craved it.
From what she had understood about magic, this sort of power was supposed to be a quiet thing, bound in scrolls and incantations. Cold and clinical in the hands of the King’s elite mages.
But Sol’s power didn’t ask permission.
It didn’t follow rules.
It burst.
It claimed.
And it left her trembling with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
I must get control of myself before I go home.
She dropped to a crouch, pressing her palm to the ground as if the soil might soothe her or steady her—but instead, a trail of frost bloomed beneath her fingers, spiderwebbing along the rocks, sticks, and dirt.
No. No. Someone could see.
She pulled her hand back quickly and the frost began to fade, melting.
That was too close.
Again, she checked the sky to make sure Korin did not come back.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
The cinder clouds had begun to thin, stars peeking through the veil of smoke. But no mighty wings cut the air. No treacherous roar trembled the sky. No massive threatening shadow loomed in wait.
Still, her breath caught.
What if he returns? Would I have the strength to stop him again?
The memory of the moment their powers touched—his fire dying under her frost, her core lighting under his gaze—made her thighs tense with a now-familiar ache.
She wrapped her arms around her body, trying to contain it, but the chill of her own power still crackled at her fingertips.
She could still feel him.
Still smell him—wild jasmine, stormwater, and flames.
Still see the gold-lit hunger in his huge dragon eyes.
Yes. He was scary, but. . .he was so. . .magnificent too. . .Is it wrong to think this way?
She curled her hands into fists, fighting the urge to touch herself, to chase that strange, unbearable wave of satisfaction to its peak. But her body still ached, still glowed, still wanted.
It terrified her.
The pleasure.
The hunger.
Because what if this was the beginning of losing herself?
She bit her bottom lip, teeth sinking in until she tasted copper.
Breathe. Control. Hide.
Her father’s words came back again, laced in dread and love.
“If they ever find out about your magic, Sol. . .if they truly see what you are, they’ll take you. You’ll never come home again.”
She didn’t doubt her father.
The King’s court had been known to cage even Nobles who showed wild or unapproved forms of magic.
But what would they do to a Lowly girl whose power wasn’t just strong, but seductive?
The kind of power that made even a dragon pause in midflight.
The kind of power that made her body cry out with craving.
The kind of power that tasted like joy on the tongue and left her soaked between the thighs.
She rose and looked up again—bolder now—and remembered the vision that she could not unsee. That moment. . .right before he flew away, he had shifted midair. She had thought it was just another pass over the city, but then she’d seen it.
All of him.
She hadn’t understood what she was seeing at first—a thick, scaled bulging length pressing against his underbelly, heavy and impossibly hard.
Did I imagine some of it? Was that his. . .love blade?
She’d never seen a human man’s love blade, but there’d been pictures in a book that her mother had kept hidden in the back of her sewing desk.
I think it was Korin’s love blade. What else could it have been?
The image of it burned in her mind—massive, dark-gold, veined with molten lines, glistening at the tip like it ached for her cold wetness.
A bolt of heat shot through her abdomen, down to the slick center of her body.
But the way Korin had turned, the way his wings had arched just enough to frame his form, as if saying see me—that surely had not been an accident.
It must have been a display.
No. Surely Korin wasn’t trying to show me his love blade.
Dragons could not feel desire.
Much less reveal it.
Still, she licked her lips, and her breath quickened.
Why did he do it? And why can’t I stop imagining it in my mind?
Soon she gathered her strength, calmed herself enough, and walked off.
Get home before anyone notices a Lowly is in the wrong part of the Kingdom.
Each step forward made her body ache with exhaustion, but she moved anyway. The aftershocks of power still simmered beneath her skin. Her limbs thrummed.