Page 59 of Dragon's Captive

"Approved with modifications." His shoulders shift slightly as he adjusts his hold on the twins. "The human instructors require additional security during full moon cycles when shadow demon activity increases near the border."

These conversations—territorial governance interwoven with domestic updates—still feel surreal occasionally. Not equality, never that, but partnership alongside the immutable power dynamics that will always exist between us.

"The twins require rest," Kairyx observes, his draconic senses detecting subtle changes in their body temperature indicating fatigue. "Their energy has diminished significantly."

"I'll take them to their chambers," Elara offers, approaching with the earned confidence of someone entrusted with precious offspring. "The evening meal has been prepared in your quarters, as requested."

Kairyx transfers the twins with careful precision, both children going willingly to Elara, whose steadfast presence represents comfort rather than reminder of captivity. As she leads them away, Lyra's golden eyes glow faintly in the dimming light, her tiny hand waving farewell with regal dignity.

"You've been avoiding me today," Kairyx states once we're alone, his voice dropping to that register that still makes my omega hindbrain snap to attention. "Your scent shifts when you conceal something."

"I'm not concealing anything," I lie, the words unconvincing even to myself. "I've been occupied with the agricultural texts and the twins were particularly energetic this morning and?—"

His palm cups my face, halting my transparent evasion with gentle but implacable touch. "Clara." Just my name, but infused with everything we've become to each other. "Tell me."

"Let's return to our chambers first," I suggest, suddenly feeling exposed in the library despite its emptiness. Some revelations deserve privacy.

His gaze sharpens, pupils contracting with predatory focus. He recognizes my delaying tactic, but permits it with uncharacteristic patience.

As we walk back to our quarters, his wing extends slightly to curve around my shoulders. The possessiveness persists—he remains alpha dragon, still biologically programmed for dominance and territoriality—but the harsh edge has softened to something that feels more like shelter than cage.

Our chambers have transformed alongside everything else—no longer my prison but our shared domain, reshaped by eighteen months of cohabitation into space that accommodates both human comfort and draconic necessities. The massive hearth burns continuously with blue-tinged flame that creates ideal ambient temperature for my adapted physiology while satisfying his need for constant heat.

As the door closes behind us, Kairyx transitions seamlessly between his public presentation and the partial dragon manifestation he adopts in private. Scales spread further across his skin, wings extending fully, features elongating slightly into expression of draconic nature he once carefully controlled in my presence but now reveals without hesitation. The transformation that once terrified me now simply represents the reality of my chosen mate—complicated, powerful, and undeniably mine.

His wings enfold me from behind as we move toward the balcony where the Appalachian night spills stars across thedarkening sky. His scales radiate warmth against my back, heat penetrating muscles that gradually release under his touch.

When he nuzzles the claiming mark at my throat, I tilt my head to allow better access, omega submission that once symbolized my ultimate defeat but now feels like strength rather than weakness. The silvered scar tissue remains sensitive even after all this time, sending shivers down my spine as his teeth graze gently across the permanent evidence of his possession.

"Tell me what you conceal," he murmurs against my skin, the words vibrating through the claiming mark in a way that makes my knees embarrassingly weak. Some things never change, apparently, despite all other transformations.

I turn within his embrace, facing him directly with hands that move without hesitation to trace the obsidian scales along his jaw. The texture has become comfort rather than alienness, the nonhuman features simply Kairyx rather than frightening other.

"I'm pregnant," I tell him simply, watching his expression shift from momentary surprise to something deeper, more primal, more intense. "About six weeks, I believe."

His hands move to my still-flat abdomen with reverent care, claws carefully retracted as they explore flesh that shows no visible evidence yet but carries his second breeding within. His heightened senses detected the subtle changes in my scent, my body chemistry, but even his draconic perception required confirmation.

"You are pleased," he says, the statement containing question beneath certainty. His golden eyes search mine for truth he can sense through our blood-bond but needs to hear articulated.

"Yes," I admit, smiling at the wonder of it myself. "I am pleased. Happy, even." The irony isn't lost on me—the woman who once feared monsters above all else now stands willinglyin a dragon's embrace, carrying his second breeding with anticipation rather than dread.

"What amuses you, little librarian?" Kairyx asks against my hair, using the title that once signified my captivity but now carries affectionate remembrance of our beginning.

"That life discovers unexpected paths," I answer, my fingers continuing their exploration of scales that once symbolized everything I hated but now represent home. "I never imagined finding belonging in captivity."

His golden eyes study me with the predatory focus that still sends shivers through me, though now from desire rather than fear. "And I never imagined finding partnership in possession." His hands span my waist, exploring the subtle changes his dragon senses can detect even if human perception would miss them entirely.

When I confirm his suspicions with a nod, the low growl of satisfaction that rumbles from his chest vibrates through my entire body. His pupils contract to thin vertical slits, draconic nature emerging more fully as his control slips with pleasure at my news.

"My seed takes root within you again," he growls, voice dropping to register that bypasses rational thought and connects directly to my omega hindbrain. "This time by choice rather than claim."

"Yes," I whisper, heat flooding my core at his words, at the possessive pleasure in his voice. "By choice."

His mouth claims mine with hunger that hasn't diminished with familiarity, the edge of dominance that will likely never fade entirely now tempered with knowledge of exactly how I respond to different pressures, different angles. His tongue tastes of smoke and cinnamon, alien yet achingly familiar as it slides against mine with practiced precision.

My arms wrap around his neck without hesitation, fingers tangling in the scales at his nape that darken beneath my touch. His wings create a private cocoon around us, blocking out the world beyond our balcony as his body radiates increasing heat against mine.

"I want to taste you," he murmurs against my throat, clawed hands already moving to remove my clothing with that controlled strength that still amazes me—capable of shattering stone yet careful enough to handle delicate fabric without tearing. "To worship what nurtures my bloodline."

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