Chapter 187: You will be my Queen

Liona’s POV

His thick arms were wrapped tightly around my waist from behind, locking me against his frame.

His broad chest felt like a wall of pure, radiating heat against my back, every single thud of his heart vibrating straight through my spine.

His breath was incredibly hot, brushing against the bare skin of my neck in short, ragged puffs that made my whole body tremble.

I knew what I was supposed to do. My mind was screaming at me to move.

I should have brought my hands up, shoved his chest away, and told him to release me.

I should have said something, anything, to break the thick, dizzying spell filling the quiet stone room. I should have stopped this madness before it dragged us both under.

But I did not.

Instead, a soft sigh escaped my parted lips, and I let my head drop back against his shoulder.

His heart was pounding like a drum, a wild, erratic rhythm that perfectly matched the frantic racing of my own chest.

The sheer warmth of him was pulling at me, melting away the last defenses I had spent weeks building up.

"Stop me," he whispered, his voice incredibly strained, rough, and raw against my skin.

His lips lightly brushed against my jawline, a tiny, teasing touch that sent a violent shiver straight down to my toes.

"Stop me right now, Liona," he murmured even quieter, his fingers tightening against my waist until it was almost painful.

I heard the words perfectly.

The logical part of my brain was frantically shouting at me to listen to him.

Push him away. Tell him to stop. Walk out of this building and never look back.

But my body completely refused to cooperate.

Instead of pulling away, my head tilted to the opposite side on its own, exposing the long, pale line of my neck to him.

It was a silent invitation, a complete surrender to the heat between us.

A low, deep groan ripped from his chest, vibrating against my back.

In the next split second, his mouth slammed against my neck.

He wasn’t gentle anymore. His lips were burning hot, kissing their way up to my jaw, sucking and biting softly at the sensitive skin until a small, breathless sound escaped my lips.

A soft moan.

I clutched at the edge of the wooden table behind me, my knuckles turning white because my legs felt too weak to support my weight.

He growled against my skin, the sound dark and animalistic.

With a sudden, dizzying burst of movement, his hands gripped my hips and spun me around fast to face him.

Before I could even catch my breath, his large hand hooked firmly under my thigh, lifting my leg and locking it tightly around his hip.

His other hand flew up, his thick fingers cupping the back of my neck to hold me still, and then his mouth crashed onto mine.

The kiss was fierce, heavy with weeks of unsaid words and hidden pain.

I didn’t pull back. I tangled my fingers deep into the soft, white strands of his hair, pulling him closer as I kissed him back with a sudden, desperate hunger.

When we finally broke the kiss just a fraction to breathe, neither of us moved away.

He was staring directly into my eyes, his gray gaze dark and swimming with a fierce heat, and I was staring right back at him, my breath hitching in my throat.

My hand slid down from his hair, my palms resting against the hot skin of his neck.

He pressed his heavy body forward, pinning me firmly against the edge of the long wooden table.

We were still completely dressed, every layer of our clothes intact, but the fabric felt entirely too thin.

I could feel every single hard line of his body pressing against mine.

He began to move against me, slow and heavy at first, his hips shifting against mine.

Then, his movements grew harder, more urgent.

A heavy wave of maddening pleasure rippled through my stomach, and I moved with him, my mouth slightly open as we found a frantic, reckless rhythm.

The intense friction between our bodies was overwhelming, a thick, suffocating heat spreading straight through my veins.

I let out another loud, broken moan in the quiet room, and the sound seemed to drive him over the edge.

He leaned in and captured my lips again, smothering the sound, his low groan vibrating directly into my mouth as his fingers dug into the skin of my thigh.

Neither of us heard the first knock on the door.

We were entirely lost in the storm of our own making, the world outside these four stone walls completely erased.

But then the sound came again, much louder this time, heavy knuckles banging hard against the dark wood.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

We froze instantly.

The sudden noise felt like a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped over my head.

My eyes snapped open, reality crashing back into the room with a violent, painful force.

Both of us were panting heavily, our chests heaving up and down in ragged, syncopated gasps as the thick haze of pleasure slowly began to clear from my mind.

I immediately dropped my gaze, utterly unable to look at his face.

My cheeks were burning so hot I was certain they were bright red.

My hands flew down from his neck, clutching at the fabric of my own dress as a heavy wave of pure shock washed over me.

What on earth had I just done? What had I almost let happen right here on this council table?

The Dragon King muttered something fierce under his breath, a low, dark curse in the dragon tongue that was far too quiet and gravelly for me to catch.

He held my waist for one more second, his fingers twitching, before he forced himself to swallow hard and clear his rough throat.

"Wait right here," he said, his voice incredibly deep and gravelly, rough from the heat that was still rolling off his skin.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lowered my leg back down until my boot touched the cold stone floor.

He took two large steps backward, creating a wide space between us, though his gray eyes lingered on my swollen lips for a brief second.

He turned on his heel, smoothing down the front of his black tunic, and walked heavily toward the door.

He pulled the heavy wood open with just a tiny crack, blocking the entrance with his massive shoulders so no one could see inside the room.

From where I sat huddled on the edge of the table, I could hear the faint murmur of voices from the hallway. They were low, urgent, and incredibly tense.

A guard was speaking to him in rapid bursts, but the words were too muffled for me to make out. I didn’t try to understand them anyway.

I kept my eyes pinned entirely to the gray flagstones beneath my boots, my hands tightly clasped in my lap to hide the way they were shaking.

The heavy door creaked and clicked shut, the lock sliding back into place. ℯℯ𝑙.

I heard the slow, heavy sound of his boots as he walked back across the room toward me.

I forced myself to look up.

His gray eyes had turned incredibly dark, filled with a mixture of lingering hunger and intense, biting frustration.

His broad chest was still rising and falling too fast, his knuckles clenching into fists at his sides as he stopped right in front of the table.

"I have a very serious situation to handle," he said quietly, his voice rough and laced with a deep reluctance.

He reached a hand toward me, his fingers stopping just short of touching my cheek.

"But... I do not want to leave your side right now, Liona."

"You have to go handle it," I said quickly, forcing my voice to sound steady, though I still couldn’t bring myself to look directly into his eyes.

I slid off the edge of the high wooden table, my boots hitting the stone as I created a small distance between us.

"If you have something important to take care of for your kingdom... go. Do not stay here because of me."

I paused, swallowing the dry lump in my throat, my voice dropping into a softer, quieter tone.

"Besides... I have to go back to my quarters and pack my things."

He took another step closer, his towering frame completely blocking out the pale morning light coming from the windows.

"Are you truly leaving the castle with them tomorrow morning?" he asked, his voice low, a heavy, raw ache bleeding through his words.

I looked down at my hands, focusing entirely on the tiny lines of my fingers, doing everything in my power to avoid the intense weight of his gaze.

"I really want to go home," I whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet room.

I paused again, a sudden wave of heavy sadness pressing down on my chest, but I forced myself to say the truth out loud.

"At least for right now, I have to leave. I cannot just stay here in this palace, trapped within these walls."

"I am simply not ready... to be your queen, or to accept this mate bond."

The silence that followed my words was long, heavy, and agonizing.

He didn’t yell, and he didn’t try to argue with me.

He just stood perfectly still in front of me, his gray eyes searching the top of my head, a deep, silent pain radiating from his posture.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat with a sharp, scratchy sound.

"Fine," he said, his voice turning completely flat, empty of all the warmth and passion from just moments ago.

"If that is truly what you want... I will let you walk away tomorrow. I won’t hold you captive."

He stepped even closer, until the tips of his leather boots were almost touching mine.

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping into a dark, incredibly soft register that sent a sudden chill across my skin.

"But know this, my queen," he whispered, his gray eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, unwavering intensity. "I am coming back for you. No matter where you go, I will come for you."

I swallowed hard, lifting my chin to look straight into his sharp face.

I forced my posture to stay straight, my voice remaining steady despite the wild fluttering in my stomach.

"You can go handle whatever your guards need you to handle now," I said quietly. "You do not need to stand here wasting time."

He held my gaze for one last, heavy moment, his eyes tracking every single line of my face as if he were trying to print the image into his mind.

Then, he gave a single, firm nod of his head.

He turned on his heel and walked rapidly toward the door, his heavy boots striking the floorboards with a loud, definitive sound.

He paused for a split second at the threshold, his large hand resting flat against the dark wood of the door.

He didn’t turn around to look back at me.

He just stood there for a beat, his broad shoulders tense, before he pushed the door open and stepped out into the corridor.

The heavy oak door closed behind him with a loud, echoing thud, the latch clicking into place.

I was left completely alone in the massive, empty room.

The sudden quiet felt suffocating.

My chest was still heaving up and down, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps as the adrenaline slowly began to leave my system.

My lips were still tingling, swollen, and burning from the fierce pressure of his mouth, and my entire body was still incredibly warm from where his hands had gripped my skin.

I slowly lifted my trembling hand, pressing my palm flat against the center of my chest, feeling the wild, chaotic thumping of my racing heart against my ribs.

What on earth had I just done?

The question echoed through my empty mind over and over, filled with a sudden, terrifying panic.

I kissed him.

I had willingly tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

I had let him touch me in ways I had never allowed anyone else to, and worse than that. I had touched him back with the same hunger.

I had wanted him.

I had wanted him so desperately that I had almost let him take me right there on the council table without a single thought about the past or the future.

Slowly, I turned my head and stared at the heavy wooden door where he had just disappeared into the shadows of the castle.

He said he would come back for me.

The words repeated in my head, soft and heavy.

I clutched the fabric of my tunic over my heart, my mind spinning into complete darkness as I stared at the empty doorway.

I didn’t know if the thought of him coming for me made me feel utterly terrified or deeply, entirely relieved.