A/N – Final chapter🥹

I’m sorry for how late this one is, but we’re officially at the end so enjoy it

——————-

Carriers took to the skies with worrying speeds as if the lands beneath were on the verge of crumbling. The grounds were just fine, but no attendee desired to risk still being on the isle should the chieftain change his mind after finally bringing the Great Assembly to an end.

They could not get away fast enough, and only spared a moment to bow gracefully and bid the chieftain farewell before making their escape.

With his chin lifted and his back unflinchingly straight, Virion tried his utmost to present himself as the epitome of composure where he stood at Zirkhlon’s side, the only attendee to linger.

It was a simple task, though it steadily proved itself impossible when the dragon at his back maintained a firm grip on his waist for all to see.

Virion should not even be here— it was not his obligation, but Zirkhlon would not see them separated again. If he were to do his duty, as the prince insisted, then the prince had to stay with him.

When Virion agreed, he had not imagined Zirkhlon would keep this close. But to his defence, he had tried to part them so they could at least appear well-mannered, but Zirkhlon had taken that gesture as a challenge and brought his claimed even closer to him.

Now, the dragon’s large chest brushed his back each time they bowed, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

Virion was positively ecstatic and simultaneously scorching beneath his glamour.

“I see you took my warning seriously,” a familiar voice called out, drawing the prince’s gaze to the elf who had become his anchor through this.

Syloce smiled at him, her eyes warm and filled with joy. Virion could not help himself— he offered a hand, and she was quick to take it. They squeezed each other’s palms in a gesture of goodwill and friendship.

“I am glad you came to your senses,” she said, not bothering to quiet herself.

“Syloce,” he scolded, glancing back at Zirkhlon, who pretended he was not listening, even as he failed to restrain his smile.

“Few would go through such extremes for another,” she replied, shameless and in no mood for fixing herself. Virion snatched his hand away, but she cared not as she rested her gaze upon the dragon. “Treat him well. He deserves it.”

“Of course,” Zirkhlon replied, bowing respectfully.

Syloce smiled, pleased, before returning the gesture. “Thank you for having me, Chieftain. This was an experience I will not soon forget.”

“Balance the rumours,” Virion pleaded, not for his sake, but for Zirkhlon’s. “Make his prolonging seem wise.”

“It was wise,” Zirkhlon retorted as his large fingers tightened around the prince’s waist. “It awarded me you.”

Virion’s glamour warbled, but he refused to let it fall while they still shared company. Instead, he avoided his lover’s gaze and tried to smile for his friend. That, too, warbled.

“I will see you soon, I hope?” She ventured, and he nodded quickly. “Good. I will do my best for your Chieftain.”

“Thank you, Syloce, and… thank you for being a friend.”

Virion did not have many friends, and none of whom were ‘real’.

He had Ciradyl and Aiasthlyn, but there was only so much siblings could do, and so much you could tell them. But it had been a long time since he trusted anyone with more, when each attempt left some part of him exposed.

But the prince could already tell that it would be different with Syloce.

She had not spoken a word against him this entire time on the isle when information was most valuable, and that, Virion would not soon forget.

“Thank you for being mine,” she replied before finally taking her leave.

Virion watched her go, the last of the attendees, and the warmth in his chest remained where it was until her carrier was out of sight. Finally, there were none left on the landing strip besides his, and with none left to serve, the dragon was quick to turn him around.

Virion was already smiling as he looked up, meeting Zirkhlon’s waiting gaze.

It was the warmest he’d ever seen, burning fiercely with love and affection, all of which he held solely for Virion. Ears twitching, Virion tightened his own grip on the dragon and brought them as close as he could.

Like so much else with the dragon, it was the prince’s first time experiencing such sweet intimacy, and it required no thought. He imagined he might be awkward, getting comfortable with Zirkhlon, but he imagined wrong.

They fit together now as naturally as they did all else.

“What happens now?” Virion asked, quietly. He shifted in his hold, so excited he feared he might put himself to sleep.

“What would you like to happen now?” Zirkhlon cooed instead of answering.

“Anything that means I get to stay with you.”

The truth came easily now that he’d shared his most vulnerable feelings, and he was glad for it. He wanted to hide nothing from this man.

Zirkhlon smiled warmly at his prince and cupped his face to keep him close. “Then, we are agreed.”

Virion could not recall ever being happier.

“There will be much for me to do soon. Work,” Zirkhlon said, losing his smile for the first time as a frown took its place. “I will not be able to avoid it—”

“That’s alright,” Virion promised quickly. “I will never get in the way of your duties.”

The red of Zirkhlon’s eyes flared, conveying his want. “Before then—” he began with care, his grasp of the prince tightening. “—would you return with me, to my isle?”

Virion pictured the hut, the storm, their tangled bodies and all their many, many arguments, and his heart leapt joyously. He sank deeper into the dragon’s arms and leaned against him until their heads touched. Zirkhlon’s was deliciously ablaze.

“There is nothing I would love more.”

Zirkhlon dipped his head as Virion closed his eyes, bringing their lips together for a kiss so sweet, his magic slipped from his control. But he did not care. He simply tilted his head and parted his lips, moaning gratefully as his dragon kissed his way into his mouth, claiming him once more.

Virion shivered in his embrace, and Zirkhlon groaned his pleasure as he gathered the prince so close, he forced him onto his toes. Their chests pressed so tightly that he could feel their rushed heartbeats singing to each other.

Sinking his fingers into the dragon’s hair, Virion claimed all of the dragon he could and had no mind of parting anytime soon until a throat cleared beside them.

They parted with a gasp, turning their attention to the man standing a mere six paces away, staring uncomfortably at the floor. It was Gyulen, Zirkhlon’s most trusted.

Virion fortified his glamour quickly, fixing it in place as he faced the man. He had barely spoken to him, but did not want his own first impression outside of the Assembly to be this. Not if he was someone close to his dragon.

“I apologise for the disturbance,” he spoke, head still cast down. “It is only that news has spread of the Assembly’s end, and with no notice of the Anael’s prince’s return, the faction, along with our Protector, has made threats to decimate our entire species.”

“Ythene’s mercies,” Virion cursed, skin scorching beneath his glamour while he watched Zirkhlon’s lips pull into a humoured smile.

“I suppose that is only reasonable,” he mused, his usual smart self.

“My brood can be… inordinately protective, at times,” he explained hastily, hoping to stifle the sound of his family’s madness before it scared his dragon away. “They do not mean it.”

“I think that they do,” Zirkhlon replied, still smiling while his fingers toyed with the prince’s shining locs. “And seeing as I am supposed to protect my people, I think it best we explain the situation before I steal you away.”

Virion found that he liked the sound of being stolen away very, very much. He nodded. “We will call them.”

Gyulen nodded, turning as if to prepare a formal faction call, but then Zirkhlon asked, “Would it not be better to go to them?”

“NO!”

Virion’s shout was so loud that Gyulen jolted and Zirkhlon stiffened. “I mean, no,” he repeated quieter, but it did not remove his dramatics from their fresh memories.

They were justified dramatics, though, for there was no way in or outside of Ythene’s plans that he would allow his brood to meet Zirkhlon now.

Ciradyl and Aiasthlyn would be nothing but combative. His Wona would adore him, of course, but too much for how new they were, and the twins would share embarrassing tales Virion would have to kill them for. Only his Mother could display some semblance of normalcy, and even that was not certain.

Altogether, they would be invasive and unrelenting, and Virion would truly die having to endure it all in front of Zirkhlon.

“A call is fine,” he amended as casually as he could. “We would never leave if we went in person.”

Zirkhlon seemed hesitant, but the prospect of not being able to snatch his prince away as soon as he could seemed to distress him more than upsetting his family. He nodded and turned to Gyulen, who had yet to unfreeze himself from his mid-step stance.

With a nod and no words, he departed swiftly, and Zirkhlon was quick to take Virion’s hand so that they could follow.

“You do not have to do this,” Virion whispered as they walked. “Speaking to members of my family is much too tedious an experience when we have only just reconciled, and we have no clue whether it will be all of them or some.”

Virion prayed harder than ever before that the twins would be off-world.

“It is not a problem,” Zirkhlon replied smoothly, as if this were no matter of worry for him. “Besides,” he paused to look back at his prince, “I want to.”

Virion almost missed his step, but there was no chance of his falling when his dragon held him so.

In chambers Virion had never ventured, Gyulen stood behind a wide desk, preparing the projections for an incoming call while Zirkhlon gestured to the foremost chairs. The rooms were wide and as decadent as the rest of the Hall, but in the air, a smoky scent he knew well clung faithfully.

“Your offices?” He guessed, and the Chieftain nodded as he sat them side by side, dragging his chair closer to Virion’s so they could remain as one. “It is nice.”

“Nice?” Zirkhlon repeated as he sank back into his chair, his body so large that the furniture could barely contain it. The scar running through his eye crinkled at its edges as his lips pulled into a smile. “I do not think my ‘hut’ ever earned a description so agreeable.”

Virion scowled, glaring at the man who kept his hand in his own. “I like your hut.”

“Do you now?” the dragon teased. “It is there we will go after this, so if it is not adequate, speak now. I will ignore your grunting, should you not.”

“I like it,” Virion reiterated, maintaining his glare even as pleasure wafted through him. “Now, is it faultless? That is a different matter.”

Zirkhlon’s eyes flared before he laughed, loud and heavy. “I knew it.”

Virion grinned back at him, and as he gazed at his companion, he felt the sun ablaze over his heart.

“It is ready,” Gyulen spoke at their back, breaking their musings.

Virion’s straightened, and nerves were quick to tame his glee. He was not afraid of his brood, nor what they would say, but he had never introduced another to them, and that was exactly what he was about to do, with no preparation.

“I will speak for us,” Virion stated, and Zirkhlon nodded easily. With a breath, the prince spared a glance at Gyulen, “We are ready.”

The plain wall before them ignited with forged lights, bringing forth a screen that quickly flickered to life with the ones waiting on the other side. By the time the distant server connected, Gyulen had taken his leave and closed the door behind him.

Who answered the call was most of Virion’s brood— Aiasthlyn and his mothers sat primly at the Great Table, with Ciradyl standing at their backs. She stood like a stationed warrior, but the moment she saw Virion, she rushed forth to join the others.

There was a glow underhand that could only come from a Sael, which turned Virion’s stomach when they all looked as if they were about to wail his name and ask a myriad of questions, but then, all at once, their familiar gazes dropped to where Virion’s hand rested on the dragon’s thigh.

Without a word or even a breath, all their eyes blotted.

Ciradyl’s jaw fell open, Aiasthlyn’s ears began to twitch, and his wona began to stammer soundlessly.

“Everyone,” Virion started, using the silence to make his case. “I have heard of your concerns, but I am not being kept against my will. There is no need for war. I am here, willingly, with my chosen.” He stated, heart lurching at voicing the words. He glanced at his dragon and found him eyeing him warmly. “All is well.”

There was silence, shock keeping it so, but shock was not eternal, and soon, they broke.

“Oh?” His Wona breathed in a high shriek. “Y-You have— You have found—” she could not speak.

“My chosen,” he finished for her. “This is Zirkhlon. We met before the first Assembly, and have found our way back to one another through this one.”

“That is wonderful, Virion,” his Mother said, drawing shocked gazes from all but her first, who felt something inside of him mend as they gazed at one another. “So wonderful.”

“Wonderful? That is all you have to say?” Ciradyl asked, alarmed. “You have no questions? None at all?”

“I never said that, only that it was wonderful,” his mother replied swiftly.

“Zirkhlon, the Chieftain?” His Wona stammered, still at a loss for words.

“Yes,” Zirkhlon replied, his voice made heavy with his confidence. “I began my fall for your son from the moment I laid eyes on him. I had no choice in the matter, and I am glad for it.”

Virion stared at Zirkhlon, wondering how he could be a fierce warrior and yet such a poet, and also… so mindlessly annoying when he wished it. He never loved another greater.

“Virion,” Aiasthlyn spoke, luring his gaze. Silver eyes stared back at him, as pure as their moons’ light, and as cold too. “All is well?”

A simple check, nothing more that risked embarrassing him, or exposing him. When they were in private, with Ciradyl, he would not be so composed, but not a moment before. Not to his detriment. It was Aiasthlyn in a bottle.

Virion could hardly stand to speak around the lump in his throat.

“All is well,” he promised with a nod.

Aiasthlyn returned the gesture. “Then we will leave you be,” he spared a glance at Zirkhlon, “and meet you soon.”

“Of course,” Zirkhlon confirmed with a knowing bow.

Ciradyl and his Wona were already beginning their pleas for a time longer, but Aiasthlyn gestured overhead, cutting the call before they could have their way.

Virion did not know why he had been so worried. His family cared for him with the same fierceness he did for them. Of course they would want him to be happy and enjoy these earliest moments with his dragon.

He bit into his smile, but even that could not quiet it.

“That was not so terrible,” Zirkhlon ventured at his side.

“The twins were not present,” Virion added, and when the dragon paled, he chortled. “It was good,” he agreed before shifting to face him, “and now…” His fingertips tingled beneath the dragon’s warm palm. “…we are free to leave.”

Zirkhlon’s heart pounded for Virion to hear, and the room quickly warmed with his desire. “Yes, we are.”

Virion had never wanted for anything more.

He stood but did not have to for long before the dragon followed, only to sweep him from his feet and into his arms. He laughed, the sound echoing through the empty Hall as Zirkhlon carried him out with a smile on his face.

Like a child, he raced them out as fast as he could. To Virion, it felt like a dream.

“I want you in your carrier,” Zirkhlon spoke once they were out on the tarmac once more. “But do not fly it. I will take you.”

Virion lost his next breath. “You will. As in—”

Zirkhlon nipped the question from his lips, his eyes alight. “Get in your carrier, Virion.”

Virion was not one for commands, but just this once, he obeyed readily.

He raced towards his waiting carrier, not bothering to pace himself so that he might appear more presentable. This man had seen him at his worst and his best, and chose to love him anyway. He sprinted with a smile not even the winds could gust away, laughing to himself as his carrier opened and he climbed within.

He slid into his seat, buckled himself in, and waited with bated breath as he peered through his carrier’s glass.

Zirkhlon stared back at him, wanting him to watch as the air began to spark as if ignited.

Even within his carrier, Virion could feel the change. It was the binding foundations of the ancient magic that only the dragons could muster. It roused the winds and brought them in and around Zirkhlon as his eyes flared, flooding crimson, before they swallowed him whole.

Smoke began to whirl into the building cloud, turning its white hue into an opaque grey that allowed nothing to be seen in or out.

Virion had never witnessed the intimate act of a dragon taking form, but he knew that when they did, they used dragon smoke to conceal themselves while at their most vulnerable.

He also knew that the greater their strength and age, the more fearsome the phenomenon grew.

As he watched now, Zirkhlon’s smoke gathered until he could see nothing but the grey fog, not even the edges of the Hall, the roaring seas or the skies above.

Virion’s heart beat so quickly it threatened to skitter out of him.

There was a moment where he could not see or hear anything, but within the next, a deep rumble reverberated through the air.

Virion clutched his handles, waiting.

There was no warning— none that should have come when a creature this size was unleashed— only silence before a heavy foot slammed over his carrier, tearing a scream from his lips.

Virion covered his lips quickly and stared up at the sharp talons covering the entire width of his carrier. Virion thought he would be carried between both of Zirkhlon’s claws, but he was so large that he only needed one.

The ground beneath him plunged suddenly, along with his heart, as he was hoisted up and into the air. He shrieked again, and did not care as he was pulled to the skies faster than he ever had before, and with far more force.

They broke through the smoke and were already high in the sky, but Virion saw not a spec of it. There were only rich, red scales that stretched over him like dazzling rubies.

He stared, mouth agape, wanting to touch and hating that he could not. He wanted to feel those scales and know if they were as warm as the man they belonged to. And more than anything, he wanted to learn each one and cast his light onto them so that none could ever wound him.

His heart battered in his chest, refusing to give as they soared through the air as fast as lightning, and before he knew it, he was at the isle again… Zirkhlon’s isle.

His smile grew and refused to waver as the dragon glided down, plummeting so fast his hair blew behind him. But they were not heading for land, but the sea, and before Virion could find his panic, they dived into a hidden alcove between the land and sea.

It was large enough that Zirkhlon could still fly through, but the sea seemed its constant companion, which meant that Virion’s carrier was splashed by the sea spray. There was no light or direction, just a deep ongoing tunnel that broke suddenly to dive deeper into Colony’s core.

Zirkhlon descended, wings tucked, and swooped into a cavern beneath where the oceans poured in like a trickling waterfall.

It seemed endless, a pit of darkness the size of a mountain, all of it concealed beneath the isle. Virion was too amazed to wonder why they were here and not the hut, and too curious to feel any fear at being in total darkness.

Slowing carefully, Zirkhlon lowered his prince until the carrier settled on the hidden flooring as softly as a drifting feather. The care was so great to Virion that he could barely contain how his magic flared with longing, but he had to. Light magic now would expose whatever Zirkhlon brought him to see, and Virion did not want to ruin this.

His fingers shook as he freed himself from his carrier’s buckles and rushed for it’s door. It opened freely, exposing him to the air below that was both salty and cool, and yet heated by the dragon still lingering in his presence.

Virion stepped out with care, moving as slowly as he could as he tried to take in his surroundings. It was too dark for even his eyes, but he swore something golden glinted at its corner, though if it did, he could not know for sure when he stepped far enough from his carrier to see only red.

Zirkhlon towered over him to heights even he could not see, but far above, he glimpsed glowing, red eyes focused solely on him. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he felt no fear, only longing so deep he could barely stand it.

The dragon lowered himself, moving slowly as if not to frighten the prince, as if he ever could.

Large as they were, his eyes were familiar. Virion saw Zirkhlon in this form as he did the other, from the long, regal horns that blended into his scales, to the scar through his eye that showed in this form, too.

A puff of steaming air escaped his nostrils, fluttering Virion’s clothing and hair in a warm gust of air. The prince laughed sweetly.

“You are gorgeous,” he said, voice echoing into chambers he could not see. “And you know I do not compliment lightly.”

Zirkhlon’s large eyes seemed to brighten with amusement before he rose high again, leaving Virion with only a shadowed glimpse of his talons before the dragon’s core began to blaze and the space around Virion heated like lava.

Before he had to, magic wrapped around him, encasing him in a shell of safety while Zirkhlon gathered his fires.

Mouth ajar, Virion watched on as the fire bubbled within him— literally bubbled— before it streaked up his great and wide gullet and exploded just past his open jaw.

The cavern, which revealed itself to be three times the size he had assumed, was illuminated by dragon fire, exposing every inch that was… covered in gold and riches.

Virion’s jaw laxed like his hands at his sides as he took in what his mind could not. Jewelled glasses and golden frames. Relics of time long passed, known and unknown. The glimmering rows of scales and diamonds, pearls and rubies.

A dragon’s hoard.

When Zirkhlon ceased his fire, the cavern remained alight, for the flames had found wisely placed torches to light. They ran deep into the cavern— deeper than Virion could see— and all throughout, Zirkhlon’s hoard carried on.

Virion’s breaths cantered out of him, and he felt near-faint as smoke wrapped around him once more. Zirkhlon was shedding his skin, but Virion could not think to watch, for he was too stunned to move.

Dragons did not share their hoards.

Not even the ones who bonded long enough to extend their lines. They kept their hoards private, and when approaching their end, they set their hoards aflame in a fire so great it snuffed the light from them, too.

A dragon’s hoard was only known to that dragon and none other, and yet… here, Virion stood in Zirkhlon’s hoard.

By the time a heated hand settled on his shoulder, tears streamed from his eyes as he turned to face this man who loved him so. Zirkhlon already reserved a smile for him, and it did not lessen any when he wiped his tears away. He knew what they were for, as he knew the significance of what he had done.

He took the prince’s hand in his and drew him back as he walked, taking them towards the hoard— sharing more, even though he had already shared too much.

“Zirkhlon—”

“As my heart is yours, so is all I have,” the dragon said, voice gravelled as if he were still in his dragon form. Virion’s eyes held his and refused to part. “My treasure is yours. Wear them, flaunt them, hide them— you choose. I only ask that you never share them.”

Virion shook his head quickly, the motion freeing more of his tears as he stumbled.

Zirkhlon kept him upright. He always would.

“I know you would not,” he confirmed as his feet caressed the nearest pile of treasures. It started with a chest overflowing with fabrics so fine, Virion did not dare touch, but Zirkhlon did not bat an eye as he stepped over it and pulled at Virion until he did the same.

He walked over the troves of treasure, encouraging Virion to follow until they were at the top of the hoarded pile, right beneath a flickering flame.

Zirkhlon turned Virion beneath it, and his eyes flooded red once more as he stared at the prince.

“There,” he whispered, a pleased rumble pouring out of him as he gazed upon his prince. “Now, it is perfect.”

Virion’s parted lips stammered wordlessly. He did not understand and was still too overwhelmed to speak, and Zirkhlon did not seem to want to stop.

“You are my greatest treasure,” he spoke as he gazed at Virion as if the cavern was empty, but for him. Only for him. “My hoard is of no note without you.”

Virion freed a sob— it cantered out of him, and many more followed quickly as he dove into the dragon’s arms, once again. It seemed a new habit. He held him tightly, tighter than when they shared their hearts, because this… this felt like a joining of souls deeper than Virion had ever imagined.

He shook from the force of his feelings, and his magic blared from him so wildly that it illuminated the cavern anew. He pulled back only to find Zirkhlon’s lips again so that he could kiss him, could have him.

“I have never loved another more,” he whispered against his lips between fevered kisses. “Not even myself.”

Zirkhlon laughed, the sound so sweet upon his lips as he withdrew to gaze at him. “Is that so?”

He thought it a jest, but it was not.

The life Virion had been given had left him no choice but to love himself fiercely, and above all else. It was him first, him always, but not anymore. He loved himself still, and that love had not wavered by any measure. But now, he loved another more.

“Zirkhlon,” he whispered, still shaking, “what I feel for you has no name.”

Zirkhlon’s ears twitched, a telling sign, and as Virion peered back at him, he stole a breath and shed his glamour whole, exposing himself entirely to the dragon.

He had done so before, but it had never been intentionally, not like it was now. But it would be from now onwards, for Virion decided then that he would never hide himself in front of this man again.

His glamour would be of no value when they were alone.

Zirkhlon took his face in hand, gazing at his prince— at the blotched colour that marred his powders, at the minuscule spots he tried his best to hide, at the slight lift above his lip that stole symmetry from his mouth, and he said…

“You are exquisite.”

Virion drew Zirkhlon to him with such force that they both fell onto the hoard. There was no pain for Zirkhlon broke it with a hand, making sure no harm came to his Virion.

Their lips melded while their hands gripped and pulled at the other, bringing themselves closer as Virion spread his legs and let his dragon in.

Zirkhlon groaned and let Virion feel his weight, knowing he could take it.

Together, they writhed atop the treasures, and as Virion felt the dragon’s length growing against his leg, he was desperate to be naked too.

“Strip me,” he demanded between kisses. “I want to feel you.”

Zirkhlon needed no further instruction.

He drew himself back and tore the clothing from Virion’s body, exposing him to his heat and the distant sea breeze. Virion helped him along, shifting and lifting his hips until he was free from the tatters of his clothing and rendered naked for his dragon.

Zirkhlon gazed down at him while his hands roved over his skin, rough and warm, and terribly familiar. Before, Virion had felt awkward to be touched so confidently. Now, he craved it so deeply he arched into the dragon’s touch.

“You compel me,” Zirkhlon rasped as he dragged his hands up the prince’s sides, causing him to shiver and whine before he took his firm chest in both hands. “Compel me to madness.”

Virion’s cock twitched between them while slick dribbled from his opening.

“Zirkhlon,” he whimpered, desperately in need of his dragon.

“I am here, darling,” he promised, drawing in close to bring them back together again. Virion moaned to feel his heated skin against his, but it was not enough.

“Zirkhlon, please,” he moaned, spreading his legs further in wanton invitation.

The dragon groaned heavily against his lips, his teeth nipping as he dipped a hand between them. His fingers brushed the prince’s slick hole, and they shared a wrecked moan.

“Ythene’s glory,” Zirkhlon groaned while he gazed down at his treasure, his fingers circling his wet opening possessively. “Virion.”

“Do it now,” Virion pleaded, panting. “Fill me.”

Red eyes glowed above him, illuminating his lover’s face, and oh, how Virion loved every inch of it as he gazed up at him.

“Zirkhlon,” he begged, “now.”

The dragon huffed, but refused to deny his prince what he craved so desperately.

He gathered Virion’s slick and lathered himself with it, making his cock wet before he brought his pulsing tip to the prince’s hole. Virion knew his dragon wanted to stretch him, but the prince did not want fingers now, and he knew he could take him.

He stole a breath as Zirkhlon pressed in, and then, his eyes rolled.

He could never forget how good it felt to take Zirkhlon’s cock, but without any help, the stretch was all-consuming. The thick cock sank into him, breaching his rim and driving deeper, moving slowly but so large that it felt as if Virion was being pried open.

Slick poured from him, desperate to help, and as Zirkhlon sank in deeper, Virion cried out as he began to spill from his cock.

“Darling,” the dragon moaned as he watched his prince cum on his cock. There was still much to go, but he did not slow himself. He sank completely inside, and Virion’s next moan pitched higher. “You can do it… You have done it before.”

Virion whined, but his body obliged and opened, making room where there was none until Zirkhlon’s hips brushed against his, and he was full of cock that stuttered his breaths.

“That’s it,” Zirkhlon praised as he touched him, though the brush of his hands left Virion twitching and whimpering when he was still so sensitive. He could barely see through his slitted eyes, could only comprehend the pleasure and the cock inside of him. “Cum on it.”

And Virion did, spilling once more until he was panting and slippery with his own pleasure.

When the next wave passed, he could only reach up to grab hold of his dragon so he had something to hold onto. Zirkhlon bowed for him, allowing the prince to cling to him as his arms fell to bracket him and his hips began to move.

Zirkhlon moaned, the sound loud in their cavern, and Virion savoured the sound as his chosen made claim of his body. He cursed and thrust faster, fucking into the prince’s tight channel until it loosened for him.

“I fear I will not last.”

“I do not need you to,” Virion promised against his neck. “I only need you to spill inside, like before.”

Zirkhlon cursed, body warming, and Virion smiled at the tell.

“Fill me, Zirkhlon,” he begged, voice cutting with each jerk. “Please… I want – to be — yours.”

Zirkhlon’s fire flamed within, and Virion melted beneath, body already giving as his dragon held him close.

“You already are,” he promised a moment before he groaned, heavy hips stuttering as his cock plunged deep into the prince, and spilt.

Virion moaned aloud, neck craned as his body arched and he took his dragon’s seed. It was hotter than before, and he loved it— loved how it left him quivering inside as he spilt again, cumming on the dragon’s cock.

The pleasure did not subside. It looped between them both, leaving them tangled, not only in body, but in soul.

“My treasure,” Zirkhlon panted between kisses while time kept them close. “My prince, my darling. My Virion.”

“My dragon,” Virion whispered back, delirious with joy as he smiled against his lips. “My love. My Zirkhlon.”

It was as good a vow as any, better, for it was precious and threaded with the love they had started brewing for one another in the midst of a most treacherous storm.

There would be ceremonies and a proper mending of houses, and name, but here, in the depths of the dragon’s hoard, their souls had found their way to each other, and that was all that truly mattered.

Virion had his dragon, and Zirkhlon, his treasure, and they would never be without each other again. They would have it no other way.

THE END