I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 14

I Left The Wolf King Who Loved Me For The Dragon King Chapter 14

Aylin Selwyn POV

When the newly carved lunar statuette was placed before me, I felt no surge of astonishment. I simply picked up the delicate moonstone relic and settled it carefully into its velvet-lined box.

“You do not favor it?” Draekon asked, a flicker of bewilderment crossing his striking features.

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I sank onto the bench beside him. The moment my weight shifted near his, his massive frame went entirely rigid.

I looked into his golden eyes. “More than trinkets, I want to know the text of your history. Tell me your story, Draekon.”

A heavy silence stretched over us before he finally relented, his deep voice carrying me back into the dark corridors of his youth.

He and Aurora had been born into a bloodbath. Shortly after their hatching, his biological uncle assassinated their father to usurp the dragon throne, subsequently forcing their mother into a political union.

To ensure the Ashenstar bloodline would never challenge his crown, the tyrant exiled the twin hatchlings into the uncharted dead-lands, leaving them to succumb to the wild.

The wastes were a meat-grinder of predators and deceivers. It was during those brutal years of abandonment that Aurora’s wing had been torn and broken. From that moment on, the siblings swore a blood oath to trust no living soul outside their own lineage.

When they finally grew strong enough to breach the Obsidian Isle and reclaim their birthright, their mother had already succumbed to illness.

Draekon executed his uncle, tearing back the sovereign title, but with his dying breath, the tyrant used a forbidden relic to plant the Lunar Deity’s curse deep within his core.

Every full moon, as the celestial light touched his armor, the agony was so immense his blood turned to boiling lead.

Unable to contain the volatile pressure, his instincts would take over; during his very first fit of madness, he had reduced the entire royal palace to ash in a matter of seconds.

Since that night, he had viewed every creature who dared approach his borders as a parasite seeking to exploit his fractures. He became defensive, deeply cynical, and violently sensitive, exiling himself to the throat of the volcano with no one but his sister at his back.

So, when he witnessed a fragile, wolf-less hybrid march through a wall of catastrophic black smoke, entirely unbothered by the threat of incineration, his mind had short-circuited into pure fury.

He refused to believe in her sincerity, assuming she was merely the vanguard of a far more treacherous conspiracy.

And so, he had unleashed his lethal, unfettered breath to destroy me.

But the moment my tears slipped past the heat and struck his scales, the rot of regret took hold. He recognized the stark, haunting reflection of his own history in my eyes; we were both broken things, carrying deep lacerations inflicted by the families who were supposed to shield us.

Yet, despite being stripped of everything, I hadn’t let the dark consume me. I was still fierce. The second Aurora extended her hand, I hadn’t hesitated to claim her as my friend, even willing to offer my own blood to clear her house’s debt.

The sheer, unbridled courage of a wolf-less hybrid had shattered his cynicism. From that exact second, his mind could no longer erase the shape of my face.

When the suns cleared and the fire died, leaving me whole and unbroken in his arms, the Dragon King knew the stars had balanced the ledger. He had found his fated partner.

And for the rest of his suns… he intended to be the shield between her and the world.

“I offer my submission for the atrocities I spoke at the peak,” Draekon murmured, his eyes locking onto mine.

I didn’t offer him my forgiveness, but the old indifference was gone. I simply tilted my head, telling him to leave the nursery so I could process the weight of his words in solitude.

…

That evening, the black sands of the shoreline were alive with the roar of a grand beach festival.

Hundreds of dragons were singing through the smoke, sharing massive flagons of spiced mead and roasting meat over open pits.

I threw myself into the crowd, my laughter catching the wind as I matched the wild, thunderous steps of my new companions.

Suddenly, my shoulder collided with a solid, unyielding chest. I stumbled back into the torchlight, looking up to find Draekon tracking my movements.

The Dragon King rarely graced public functions. The moment his imposing silhouette materialized on the sands, a deafening cheer erupted from the surrounding flights.

Caught in the sudden surge of chanting and playful jeers, I had no choice but to take his hand and join the rhythm of the dance. He had shed his tunic, his heavily muscled chest painted with ancient, crimson war-runes that rose and fell with his deep respiration.

His short, dark red hair whipped wildly in the salt wind, and his golden eyes burned with a lethal, mesmerizing brilliance that put the stars to shame.

My palms slid over the heavy ink of his skin, tracing the iron lines of his torso.

Swept up in the heat of the fire and the roar of the drums, I gripped his shoulders, tilted my chin, and pulled his mouth down into a fierce, breathless kiss.

The roar from the surrounding dragons doubled in volume, shaking the very cliffs.

Draekon didn’t pull away. His grip tightened around my waist, his mouth softening as he returned the strike with a deep, deliberate warmth.

By the time our lips parted, my head was spinning, the air in my lungs completely spent. Swallowing hard, I forced my features back into a deadpan mask, desperately trying to project an air of complete indifference as if the Dragon King hadn’t just shattered my composure entirely.

At twilight, a colossal shadow descended upon the courtyard outside my private terrace.

“Climb up,” Draekon’s mental voice rumbled within the depths of my mind, smooth and commanding. “I am taking you to a sanctuary hidden from the court.”

I carefully scaled his forearm, finding a secure seat between the razor-sharp ridges of his spine. He unfurled his massive, obsidian-veined wings, catching the wind like heavy sails as a violent vortex of air whipped around my clothes. Then, with a single, earth-shattering down-stroke, we launched into the sky.

The world below shrank into nothingness within seconds. The volatile throat of the volcano was reduced to a minute crimson pinprick, bleeding a thin thread of gray smoke into the clouds.

I locked my arms around his massive neck, a wild mixture of terror and exhilarating heat screaming through my veins.

Draekon coasted out over the open expanse of the dark sea, his flight pattern leveling into a smooth, rhythmic glide. Before us, the horizon exploded into a breathtaking sunset—the sky looked as though a smith had poured a boiling cauldron of molten gold across the clouds.

The fractured golden light danced across the crests of the waves below, thousands of bright scales flashing simultaneously as the ocean swelled. It was a grandeur I had never even dreamed of.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, the words stolen by the wind. “Thank you, Draekon.”

Leaning down, I pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the heavy plating of his neck.

The colossal beast shuddered beneath me, his wings missing a fraction of a beat before stabilizing.

…

Midnight arrived, but the fire didn’t recede. I refused to let him cross the threshold out of my chambers.

Draekon’s towering frame completely pinned me against the heavy furs of the bed—he was so close I could smell the distinct, intoxicating fragrance of aged whiskey, sulfur, and salt water radiating from his skin.

Then, his mouth crashed into mine.

It was a ravenous, possessive assault—a brand unique to the predatory nature of the dragon lords.

His lips moved over mine with an intensity that left an indelible mark upon my soul, a raw declaration of ownership that rang far more deafeningly than any vow of devotion.

This was no tentative, testing strike like the one we shared on the black sands. The weeks of engineered distance and tightly controlled restraint between us detonated into a flood of primal, unchecked hunger.

His tongue forced its way past my lips, demanding compliance, plundering whatever remained of my defenses.

I didn’t cower. I met his fury with my own, wrapping my arms around his neck as I bit viciously into his lower lip, drawing a trace of copper heat until he ground his teeth against the pain.

We had reverted straight back to our confrontation at the edge of the burning caldera, venting years of stored rage and betrayal into each other’s skin.

But beneath the violence of the storm, deep within the fracturing cores of our souls, something far more permanent was taking root.