4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Taran

T he drive back home to my castle passed in a haze, and I was glad I wasn’t the one steering the sleek grey Helix along the winding roads weaving their way west.

The cafe on Finnegan Square had become my sanctuary over the past few weeks. True, I felt most comfortable in my home, but it was a close second, and it was all because of her.

I’d been alone for most of my life. It sounded pathetic when I put it like that, but it was true. My mother and father had their own endeavours, and while my mother had spent the first thirteen years of my life more or less with me, my father’s only contribution had been to bless me with his absence.

I was their only kid, the one they’d had after they had made it big and figured having a baby might make their lives complete, make their existence feel less empty.

I wasn’t fooling myself. They had never seen me as their ideal son. Weak, anxious, bookish, that’s how I had been in my youth. Eventually, I had gotten strong. I’d shifted my form often to escape a stream of endless tutors, which had helped boost my growth and train my muscles.

When my mother, the stunning Ice Dragoness, Kalon Atax, departed this realm, I cautiously began my journey through life.

I had a name that opened doors to all the clubs and fancy societies, and plenty of money to blow. My parents had made sure of it—whether out of guilt or love, I didn’t know.

I went to auctions and found the most incredible artists and artisans of my time and grew my collection until my hoard looked like a Dragon’s wet dream.

Then, the curse that befell so many of my kin had gotten me, too. I got caught up in my greed and started suspecting everyone of wanting my money, to the point I isolated myself in my castle.

Years I’d spent all alone in my lair, with only Stuart and my treasures for company.

Change had crept in subtly at first. Barely noticeable, until, with time, it had become glaringly obvious. A weird mix of nostalgia and longing had settled in my chest, as if I was missing something I had never had .

How can that even be? I wondered as I strolled through the halls of my ancestral Scottish castle.

It stood proudly on the edge of a deep loch, a fissure carved—by water and time—into the rocks that rose on either side, restored to its former glory, each intricate detail carefully recreated.

How dare it make me feel empty? With every click of my claws on the stone floors, loneliness echoed in my two hearts and the irresistible urge to shift cut through me like a splinter.

Fly far away from this place and never return. I had been about to leave my throne room one day when I had stopped dead in my tracks. As always, the hall’s grandeur left me in awe. My gaze travelled over fancy tapestries and paintings on the walls, and the masterpiece in its centre: the single chair, crafted from the horn of my forebears. As I looked around once more, my attention was drawn to a larger-than-life Centaur, before my eyes settled on a skilfully chiselled Satyr, his erection carefully hidden within a mass of precisely carved hair. From there they darted to a Dragon like me, to the Troll, to a Finman, and back again. All these creatures had one thing in common. They were accompanied by one or more tiny humans watching them with adoration in their eyes. Each of them looked ecstatic, including the kidnapped woman who, perched on the Centaur’s shoulder, displayed an expression of unbridled ecstasy on her round face, as if she desired nothing more than his large, erect horse penis in her. Maybe this is the answer to my problem. Not the horse’s cock—having a human of my own.

The thought just wouldn’t leave me alone. The last thing I wanted was to turn into that awkward rich guy, sitting in his empty house all by himself, writing embarrassing poems and admiring his possessions. So I had decided to step out of my bubble, socialise with the peasants, and find someone who liked me for me.

Someone who wants nothing more than to be with me and worship me forever.

I snorted as I got out of the car, patted my butler, Stuart, on the arm, and entered the castle. Humans are simple creatures , my mother had always said, contempt curling her snout. I’d been so sure it was going to be all right, and then I’d had my arse handed to me by a loudmouthed, purple-haired human woman.

It was hard to admit I’d been raised a speciesist, but it opened up new possibilities for personal growth.

It was all thanks to Maeve that I realised humans weren’t simple. They were intricate and delicate, so mesmerising that, if I wasn’t careful, I might get addicted.

Or maybe it’s already too late.

I took off my shoes and entered my throne room, enjoying the rough stone under my feet.

A room fit for a king. May the Moon Goddess forgive me for my stupidity .

I didn’t want someone who worshipped me. I wanted a queen.

I gave myself the night to relax and think of a game plan. Submerged up to my chest in the tub—which was shaped like a forest pond—I let my thoughts run wild. In my mind, they resembled little hatchlings, flying around the loch, occasionally diving into the water or trying to skim the surface with their claws.

Like I did as a wee child.

A wistful smile pulled at the corners of my mouth, and I let it come.

Back to the situation at hand, Atax.

I couldn’t do this alone. I needed Samuel and Stuart to execute this plan. And, of course, my fierce little human.

When I closed my eyes I could see her before me, standing on the pool’s edge, naked as if the Goddess had made her in her image.

Reaching up, I trailed a hand over my horn, the touch sending showers of pleasure trickling down my neck.

This body is strange.

In my true form, my horns weren’t sensitive and my cock stayed safely hidden under my armour. This version of me had no defences, no protection. I was raw, naked, and out in the open. With every step my underwear rubbed over the bumps and, to make matters worse, my horns were sensitive to the touch.

So fucking sensitive. Not that anyone ever touches me but still…

A soft groan escaped me when I took a firmer hold of it, teasing my hand up and down. Despite my vow to be a gentleman towards her, I let my mind latch onto Maeve. What would her touch feel like? Gentle and tentative at first, surely. But once she realised how much it turned me on ?

A snarl tore out of me as I imagined her hands on my horns, jerking them slowly.

The way I like it.

Plunging the other hand into the water, I gripped my hard, curving cock right under a row of blunt spikes that sat under the crown.

My low rumbling purr made the water lap on the pool’s edges, almost spilling over, as I stroked myself, twisting my fingers around the head, my other hand still holding onto my horn.

Do you like that, Scales? fantasy Maeve gasped, and I sped up even more.

It took me an embarrassingly short time to finish. With a groan, I spilled myself all over my hand, my abs, and my chest. Stone crumbled under my hard skull when the force of my climax made my upper body arch.

Breathing heavily, I enjoyed the pure bliss racing through my veins like liquid fire a while longer. Slowly, I spread my thick cum over and around my head, teasing the seam with a fingertip, and trailed a few fingers through the mess on my torso.

Coming this much was a pain in bed, but so hot in the bath. Being able to pleasure myself like this was definitely one upside of this body.

What I would give to share this with my sweet human one day, the steam from the bath curling the purple strands around her face as she rode me until we flooded the entire room, her skin rosy from the warmth and the fucking.

But how will we ever get there if I don’t get my head out of my arse whenever she’s around ?

With a deep sigh, I relaxed back into the warm water, my head now clear and focused. When I emerged from the pool two hours later, with my scales smooth and gleaming in the dancing candlelight, I knew exactly what to do.

Feeling the satin sheets’ soft whisper against my scales was another upside of being this , and I fell asleep with hope in my heart.