There were things you could unsee. And then there were things that burned themselves into your brain with the permanence of a brand. Serena was about to collect her second one today.
She woke up in the infirmary for the second time with no memory of how she got there. A pattern she did not appreciate.
Everything that happened was a blur.
All she knew was her throat was parched, her body felt feverish, and the moon was high in the sky so it'd been hours.
A large painting of a dragon hung directly across from her bed. Its eyes flared gold, then it swung open like a door. She stared at it for exactly two seconds before she was out of the bed in front of it.
The tunnel on the other side was pitch black and she entered like a reasonable person would. She followed the dark until muffled voices and a sliver of light stopped her. Later, she would replay this moment and confirm that yes, she absolutely should have kept moving.
Curiosity got the better of her. She pushed the tapestry forward an inch to peek.
War room. Side angle. Giant table dominating the space. On it, a woman with her dress rucked up around her waist and her breasts exposed. A man was thrusting into her.
Gavriel Sterling.
The woman lying across the table in front of him was wearing a crown. Serena inhaled sharply, blinking a few times as if her eyes were deceiving her.
They were not.
Crown most likely meant that was Queen Bellatrix, Dexmon's mother.
Gods. What was with this family having sex in random rooms?
Gavriel flipped Bellatrix onto her stomach and his hand came down on her ass with a crack.
"More?" His hips drove forward into her. "Tell me what you want."
She didn't answer. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, his mouth dropping to her ear as he fucked her into the table.
"I asked you a question."
"Make me," Bellatrix hissed.
"You don't get to move." Gavriel's free hand reached for a candle. He tilted the candle pooling wax along the dip of her back. "Tell me how much you like it."
Bellatrix convulsed under him. His hand cracked across her ass again, keeping her pinned against the table.
"Louder," he said through his teeth.
Serena's face burned to her ears. She'd understood sex from an academic distance and overheard conversations.
This was not that.
This was Gavriel who looked only a few years older than her. Entirely too young and immature to be a Gamma. Entirely too young to be... oh gods.
And he was bending this woman over a war table and making her scream like the castle was on fire.
"Serena..." he groaned.
Serena's hand flew to her mouth.
Gavriel froze. His eyes snapped open, something between horror and realization flooding his face.
Bellatrix went rigid. Her expression shifted from pleasure to fury instantly. She shoved herself off the table, her dress falling back around her hips.
"Her. HER. Of all people."
She struck him across the face hard. The crack echoed off the stone like a whip.
Gavriel stood there, jaw turned from the impact, pants still partly down.
Serena pulled back from the tapestry and moved down the corridor without a sound. She found the nearest painting that opened to a main corridor and pushed through it.
Enough of walking in on this family doing things. First Dexmon and Agnes, and now this. She was so deep in the wreckage of her own thoughts that she walked right into someone.
"Serena?" Dexmon caught her, brows furrowed. "Where have you b-" He cut himself off. "Are you okay?"
The question didn't register.
"Apologies," she said, dipping her head. "Please excuse me." She moved past him quickly back towards the infirmary.
✦✦✦
Dexmon followed her. He told himself he was only going to check on her after she'd fallen asleep. Just to make sure she was still breathing evenly, that the faint glow beneath her skin had finally settled.
But the moment he saw her lying there asleep, something in his chest gave way. He sat on the edge of the bed. Then, without realizing he had moved, his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair back from her face.
The instant their skin touched, a quiet spark rippled through him.
Aegon:Did you feel that?
Dexmon:Obviously I felt that.
She looked uncomfortable, a faint crease of pain etched between her brows. She was still burning up.
His hand found the zipper at the back of her training suit. He hesitated, fingers resting there as heat radiated through the fabric into his palm. Then he glanced back at her face.
Pulse loud in his ears, he moved carefully, peeling the heavy fabric away until she was down to her undergarments and bandages. He kept his eyes on her face the entire time, and pulled a thick blanket up around her when he was finished.
The urge to hold her pressed hard against his ribs, something he had no business feeling.
Aegon:If you lie with her, she will heal faster.
"Fuck it," he muttered under his breath. He had already stripped her down to her undergarments. At this point, pretending restraint felt dishonest.
Aegon: He arrives. At last. The man I have been waiting for all evening.
He slid beneath the blanket and drew her back against his chest. She fit there with unsettling perfection. Like she had been shaped for that space.
For him. His wolf offered no commentary for exactly thirty seconds.
Aegon:Told you.
Dexmon breathed in her scent again. The forest, moonfire, and something wild beneath it that made his chest ache. It was overwhelming.
He still could not fathom how beautiful she was.
There was no avoiding it anymore. He would have to end things with the princess. He had given his word months ago, but it had never felt right.
Serena needed to be claimed. Interest in her was already growing, and he would not leave her unprotected.
He pressed a quiet kiss to the back of her head. Then sleep claimed him before he realized it.
He woke before dawn.
Serena had not stirred.
It took effort to pull himself away, every step toward the door an act of restraint. As he left the room, he made a quiet decision.
As soon as she was healed, she would be moved into his quarters.
He did not allow himself to think about whether she would agree.
For her safety.
That was the story he was sticking to.