Chapter 17

The thrill of the ritual still pulsed through me, the weight of the dark crown settling in my mind, making the air in my chamber feel electric. I had claimed the throne, ignited the beacons, and cast my presence across the land. My body felt alive with power, with purpose, even as exhaustion tugged at the edges of my awareness. I sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back, letting myself breathe in the stillness.

The soft click of the door opening snapped me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Izzy entering, her steps light and silent as a whisper. She glided toward me with a look in her eyes that was both hungry and mischievous, a smirk playing at her lips as she locked her gaze on me. Her dark, sheer dress clung to her every curve, the fabric practically translucent in the dim candlelight. Every line of her body was visible, every inch of her skin promising pleasure, danger, and something far deeper.

"You've been through quite the transformation tonight, my king," she purred, her voice a soft, sensuous drawl. She stopped just in front of me, her fingers trailing up the front of my tunic. "You must be feeling it… that pulse of power, the fire coursing through you. It's intoxicating, isn't it?"

She leaned down, her face close to mine, her lips a hair's breadth from my ear. Her breath was warm, her voice soft, seductive. "I could feel it from across the castle," she whispered, her words laced with a dark, thrilling promise. "And I couldn't resist. I had to see you, to feel that power up close."

Before I could respond, she slipped her hands to her shoulders, letting the thin straps of her dress fall away. The fabric slid down her body, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing bare before me, her flawless skin illuminated by the soft, flickering glow of candlelight. She was beautiful, darkly radiant, every curve of her body inviting, a promise of pleasures that I knew were as dangerous as they were tempting.

She moved closer, pressing her body against mine, her hands trailing up my chest, her fingertips grazing over my skin, her touch warm and electric. Her lips brushed against my neck, soft and inviting, her breath warm against my skin as she pressed gentle kisses along my jaw, her movements slow, deliberate, each touch calculated to draw me deeper into her.

"Your strength, your power…" she murmured, her voice a soft, sensual whisper. "It's thrilling, Zaron. It calls to me, and I can't ignore it."

Her hands slid up to my shoulders, her fingers tracing the line of my collarbone, her lips trailing over my skin, leaving a trail of warmth, of desire. I could feel the dark thrill of her touch, the pulse of power in my veins responding to her, stirring something deep within me. She leaned in closer, her hands drifting down to rest against my chest, her fingers pressing into me with a possessive, hungry intensity.

"You are my king," she whispered, her voice thick with need, her lips brushing against mine in a teasing, barely-there kiss. "Let me show you just how much I worship you… how much I want to be yours."

But as tempting as her touch was, as inviting as her presence felt, a part of me, something deeper, stronger, rebelled. I'd spent this entire night claiming my rule, my authority, and I knew that giving in to her now would mean giving away a piece of that power. I wasn't about to let that happen.

I took a deep breath, pulling back, breaking the contact, meeting her gaze with a firm, unyielding stare. "Enough," I said, my voice steady, my tone carrying a command that I hadn't expected to find. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, but her smirk quickly returned, her gaze filled with challenge.

"Oh, come now, Zaron," she purred, leaning in, her lips brushing against my jaw. "You've claimed your throne, ignited the beacons, and cast your power across the land. Don't you think you deserve a reward?"

Her fingers trailed down my chest, her touch slow, teasing, her gaze never leaving mine. But I held firm, refusing to be drawn in, refusing to let her take control.

"Be gone, thot," I said, my voice a low, commanding growl.

For a moment, she froze, her eyes widening in shock, a flash of irritation crossing her face. But then she let out a soft, amused laugh, stepping back, her hands falling away from me. She tilted her head, her smirk returning, her gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and dark, lingering desire.

"Fine," she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a hint of challenge. "But don't think this is over, Zaron. One day, when you least expect it, you'll let your guard down. And when you do…" She let the words hang in the air, her smirk deepening as she picked up her dress, draping it loosely over her shoulders.

She cast one last, lingering glance at me, her gaze filled with a promise that was as dark as it was inviting. "Until next time, my king," she whispered, and with a final, knowing smile, she slipped out of the room, her steps as silent as shadows.

I watched her go, feeling the tension in the room slowly dissipate, leaving me alone in the silence. The temptation of her touch, the dark allure of her presence, still lingered in the air, a reminder of the power she held, the pull she had over me. But I had resisted, held my ground, and I felt a strange, fierce satisfaction settle into me.

This was my rule, my throne, and I wouldn't let anyone, not even Izzy, take control of that.

************************************************

Thank you for your support with the powerstone Drokto