Page 112 of The Flame King's Queen

“Yes, make me pregnant again. Knot me, Alpha,” she cries.

The scars I bit into the nape of her are glowing red from her heat, tantalizing me. My dragines ache to pierce her flesh once more.

Isavelle’s cries are growing louder and more desperate. Her heat makes her so sensitive to my touch that her first climax slams into her swiftly and without warning. I feel it when she clamps down on me rhythmically, and she drives me headlong into my own orgasm. With a roar of pleasure, I grip her hair hard and bury my teeth in her nape, biting down until I taste blood. At the same time, I thrust so hard that my knot pushes inside her.

In the aftermath, we’re both panting with exertion. My jaw relaxes, and I lick her wounds tenderly, and they start to heal from my saliva. I hold my queen close with both my arms wrapped around her.

“That was incredible,” she gasps. “I need you so much.”

I’m lodged deep inside her, and it’s my favorite place to me. She’s full of me and my cum, and I lay with my body curled around hers, resting for a moment until we’re both ready to go again.

My knot deflates enough that I’m able to pull out, but that first climax was barely enough to satisfy either of us. I thrust into Isavelle again, and we both cry out in pleasure.

Four days later,I emerge from Isavelle’s nest a sated and happy Alpha, ready to stretch my legs and find out what’s been going on in my kingdom.

The first thing I see when I step outside the castle is Scourge’s mighty black wings spread against the sky as he and Esmeral return.

Two more figures shoot past me on my way down to the dragongrounds, moving in a silver blur. Esmeral trills happily and pushes her head into my hand while her fledglings scamper around us. The wingrunners approach, one dressed in full regalia, the other wearing a trainee uniform.

“Ma’len,” Fiala greets me respectfully. She’s been a little subdued since Dusan’s death, but she’s taken Anise under her wing, something that seems to suit them both. “I hope that you and the queen enjoyed your time together.”

“Oh, we did. I’m sure Isavelle will want to get out and about again very soon and require your escort.”

“That’s something we were hoping to talk with you about,Ma’len,” Fiala says, and glances at Anise.

The girl steps forward, back straight, chin lifted. “Ma’len, I should like to apply for the position of being Queen Isavelle’s second bodyguard.”

I eye her curiously. I wasn’t expecting this from Anise. “A little dragon told me that you don’t enjoy being in your sister’s shadow, but that is often what a bodyguard does all day.”

“The way I see it, Isavelle gets out and about in Maledin more often than most wingrunners do, and insists on going to all the most interesting and dangerous places. That’s what I want as well.”

“Even if that means long months of staying close to home when Isavelle is giving birth and recovering?”

“There are other wingrunner duties I can attend to during those times.”

“Even if it means sacrificing yourself to save her life or our children’s lives?”

Anise’s expression sobers, and she answers, “I love my sister. I love my niece. I do not fear dying for them,Ma’len. As long as I am given dragon rites, even though I have no Maledinni blood. I would want to meet my wyvern in the afterlife so we can fly together there.”

“Of course, you have more than earned that right.” I glance at Fiala. “What do you think?”

“As long as we have a third wingrunner with us while Anise finishes her training, I have no objection. I think it’s a very good idea, in fact.”

“Then I am satisfied, and I’ll leave the final decision to the queen.”

“Leave what to the queen?” asks a voice behind me.

I turn and see Isavelle making her way toward us, a dreamy, satisfied expression on her face. The first thing she does is go up on her toes and kiss me.

“Whether I can become your next bodyguard,” Anise asks eagerly.

Isavelle looks at her in surprise. Then she smiles. “I’d love that. You can start right away, because I’d like to visit Amriste and check on Biddy’s cottage.”

Anise beams with happiness.

“There’s no need to fetch another wingrunner this time,” I tell them. “I’ll come as well.”

I’m reluctant to let my mate out of my sight for the moment, and I wonder if it’s possible that I’ve sensed she’s pregnant. Or maybe I’m merely hopeful she is.

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