Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

PHILIP

Awareness prickles down our spine as we look about, seeking out this new danger. No. Not new. This is someone I know, someone I’ve smelt before. The evil witch. The one who started all this to begin with.

She saunters out of the woods, the tip of her staff gleaming in the light of the waning sun. Her lips twist into a disgusted frown as she looks upon us in dragon form.

“As I thought. Abomination.”

There’s that word again, and all it does is stoke our combined anger into an inferno. With a mighty roar, the dragon sends out an arc of flames, surrounding the witch with his fiery breath. But it does not contain her.

With a sweep of her hand, she extinguishes the fire and cackles. “Is this all you can do, mighty dragon? Spit your pitiful flames at me? I have been to the pits of Hades and can control any dark magic you send my way.”

The dragon roars again, unsure why his major defense doesn’t work. His mind is cold and calculated, like an animal lacking reason but possessing an overabundance of cunning. He tracks her movements, sniffing the air as she flits about.

With a shriek, she moves her staff, sending an arc of magic hurtling toward us. At the last moment, the dragon slips to the right, letting the blur of red zip by, effectively dodging her attack. For something so massive, he’s able to move with the same agility as me on the battlefield.

Again, he sends out a burst of flames, but they have no effect. I can feel the rage and frustration pouring through me as if it’s my own. This isn’t working. Nothing he does makes even a dent.

There has to be something we’re not seeing. Reaching forward, he swipes at her, his massive talon ripping through her cloak, but missing her completely. Her laughter as she dances away bounces through my mind, fueling the ire driving us forward.

Like a wounded animal, the dragon roars, shaking the ground beneath us. I need to get control before it’s too late. As much as he’s assisted with the briars, he doesn’t seem to have any effect on the witch and her tools.

The dragon’s mind is like a sea of molasses as I wade through, trying to take control. He resists me, confident he can bring this evil woman to her knees. But I have strong doubts. We wrestle inside, both of us fighting for control.

It’s not until we reach an agreement that he finally gives way. But not completely. As my body becomes my own once more, it retains the better parts of him and the useful parts of me. In front of us, the witch watches, her mouth dropping open as my body becomes an unholy hybrid.

A human dragon.

Picking up my sword, I stalk forward, the talons shrinking enough to make it easier to hold. Wings beat behind me, ready to lift me out of danger if need be. My teeth are razor sharp with fangs that can cut through stone and metal. Certainly strong enough to bite through the evil menace shaking before me.

Though I’m naked, I find that I don’t care. I’m freer this way, unencumbered by armor or clothes. I crouch low, keeping her in our sight as we circle. The dragon keeps an eye on the peripheral while I keep my gaze trained on her.

Now, she cannot exploit any weakness.

Snarling, I lunge forward, uninhibited in my mostly human form. She jumps back, but not before the tip of my sword catches her arm. The coppery scent of blood dances through the air, making my vision shimmer as heat rises through my body.

The evil witch points her potent staff at us again and fires off a red arc of magic. My wings unfurl, taking me high into the air. Without thinking, I open my mouth, allowing the flames to shoot out. Before she can nullify them, however, I race in and pin her down, trapping us in the ring of fire.

The tips of my wings pierce her shoulders, anchoring her to the ground. Her shrieks of agony wash over my skin like a soothing, cleansing rain. Once we dispatch of her, she’ll no longer be able to cause harm to my kingdom.

Grabbing the sword, I hold the blade up to her throat, wishing to give her a death like the former king she helped overthrow. But the dragon wants more. He wants her blood to coat our bodies and drip from our lips.

As if she can divine our thoughts, she thrashes about, terror lighting up her eyes. Her body quivers around my wings as she does her best to wrench away from us. A dark chuckle ripples through the air as we watch her. She’s so helpless, so impotent, without being able to hold her staff.

Bending low, I run my nose up the length of her neck, smelling the sour fear rolling off of her. “Should I show you mercy?” I rumble against her skin.

Her body shudders against mine as her heart pounds so hard I can feel it against my skin.

“You don’t deserve mercy. Your feral puppets showed my mother none.”

This time, she whimpers, fully aware of what happened to the woman lying cold and ravaged in her tomb. My cock, now merged with the dragon’s, lays limp, but massive, against her hip. I find no arousal in her pleas for mercy. That’s not who I want to hear begging.

But I can play with her fear, make her wonder if I too will defile her like my mother was. Rising, I keep her pinned with my wings while I show her my new shaft. Thick veins and ridges rise from the base and wrap around up to my tip.

A girthy knot resides at my base, pulsing with need as the dragon feeds on her fear. But she’s not the one I want. Try as I might, I can’t even get hard from the anger and rage I feel toward her. Briar is the only one to bring that sort of reaction out of me.

Seeing me in all my glory, however, is enough to make the witch cower before me, her body writhing as she begs me to kill her. Her cries pepper my skin, landing on me as if being pelted by rain. Lifting my eyes to the sky, I smile.

It’s the first time in years a genuine smile passes over my lips. Retribution is nigh at hand. Dropping my chin back to my chest, I stare down at the insect sobbing beneath me. She’s not worth the effort. My dragon and I have more important things to do.

Grabbing my sword, I plunge it into her black heart, sighing as her screams punctuate the air, only to silence moments later. An eerie calm descends on the forest. Minutes go by as I stand there, my heart pounding in my chest. Ripping the tips of my wings from the witch’s shoulders, I watch as an arc of blood coats the leaves.

The dragon, still not satisfied, brings the tips close to my mouth so we can taste her blood. It’s acrid and bitter, filled with evil thoughts and plans. But the dragon revels in it, taking her into us.

Even as our tongue laps at the vermillion as it drips down, my mind is now occupied with a different thought completely. Briar. Nothing stands in our way. Nothing keeps us from making her ours. The dragon agrees, finally sated with the death of the witch.

Striding forward, I place my hand on the door, hesitating for a moment. So much time has passed since last I saw her. So much pain and agony span the gulf between us, and I worry it’s far too large now to cross.

More than that, I wonder if the woman inside will be anything like the child I knew. The Briar from ten years ago was such a sweet and loving child, but her diary speaks of someone who is a stranger now. Has her heart truly twisted against me so steadfastly that I will not be able to draw her to my side?

The dragon doesn’t care. Briar will be ours whether she likes it or not. I turn the knob, holding my breath as I ease my way through. Darkness greets us, shrouding everything in a mystery. But she’s here. I know it.

I smell her.

I hear her breathing.

I feel her heart pounding as if it’s my own.

Spitting out a small flame, I light the fireplace so I can get my bearings. It’s a small, simple room with a bed against the far wall. Nestled beneath the covers is Briar. She doesn’t move. Even when I roar, she remains still.

I know she’s not dead. But she isn’t alive either. She’s in this odd liminal space between the living and the hereafter. Fanning my flames around the room, I light the candles, giving me ample lighting to see my bride for the first time.

Gone are the childish features I remembered from before, and in their place is a woman of such beauty, I can hardly stand to look at her. The transformation is astounding. Try as I might, I cannot even conjure the image of her as the child who traipsed about the castle, bending everyone to her will.

The two are as different as night and day, and until this moment, I was worried I would feel nothing for her. I was consumed with the fear that she’d only ever be a child to me. But now that I see her like this, she awakens a lust in me I’ve never felt before.

My cock pulses with need as I take in her form, studying as best as I can with her covered up. She lies there, so sweet and innocent, her pale, pink lips just begging to be kissed. Asleep as if dead, and only true love can wake her up.

It seems as if the witch had her way, after all. It’s astounding what influence she had over so many. Thankfully, the Violet Witch cast her blessing upon my bride, preserving her for me.

Striding over to the bed, I move to bend down, but pause, noting the Dragon’s Bane nestled in the crook her breasts. Anger surges through me as I rip the plant away and toss it to the floor. Next are the pieces hanging around the canopy. They will do her no good. Not now. Not ever.

With a flick of my wrist, I rip the covers away and look down at her body. Lush curves swell and dip, sending lust sizzling through my brain. She’s mine. She’s been mine since the day she was born.

No. Not yours . A voice hisses in my head. Ours .

The talons grow as I desperately try to keep the dragon at bay. He’ll harm her for sure.

Do you not remember? Her graces keep her safe from us. We will not hurt her. Claim our bride .

My mind reels back to that time so very long ago. Eighteen years ago, she was given the grace of safety. She will not be injured. She will not feel pain. We can do our worst, unleash our bloodlust, and her obedience will make her ask for more.

Heat shimmers in my vision as lust overtakes me. I cannot tell if it’s me, him, or us who feel so strongly toward this near stranger. Reaching forward, I rip the gown from her body, revealing her naked form for the first time.

Our cock pulses, pearling precum as I look at her pinkish nipples surrounded by delicate, tan areolas. Until her, I’ve never seen a woman so desirable. Letting my gaze travel lower, I take in the thatch of curls guarding her pussy. Her breath hitches in her throat as I trail my fingers down, gripping the strands and tugging on them.

Even in her sleep, she can feel what I do to her. Wrenching her legs apart, I watch as arousal gathers at her entrance, preparing her for my invasion. The craving to taste her overrides all logical needs. Snaking out my long, dragon tongue, I lap at her, taking her taste deep into my mouth.

She tastes like the wild forest berries covered in a sugary frost—dark and forbidden. Pulling back, I ease the tip of our tongue into her opening, sliding it in as far as I can go. Soft whimpers spill from her lips as I fuck her with my tongue, forcing more arousal to gather and coat her thighs.

Her inner walls clamp around me as desperation ripples through her core. But I pull away, not willing to give her pleasure yet. She has to give me something first. The one thing she cannot give anyone else. I will claim her innocence before I allow my bride to come.