Behind us, the rhythmic beating of Zaydon’s dragon-like wings filled the air, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo with the weight of his unspoken emotions. Each powerful beat reverberated through the crisp sky, a constant, visceral reminder of his presence. In sharp opposition, Riyal exuded an almost angelic stillness, his wings carrying us upward with a grace that seemed effortless.

The two men were polar opposites, like night and day, fire and ice. Riyal, with his ethereal composure and calm demeanour, radiated an otherworldly light as if untouched by burdens. Zaydon, on the other hand, was dark and primal—a force of nature untamed, his every movement charged with intensity and barely restrained power. Their differences were undeniable, two clashing forces pulling me in opposite directions, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, both felt equally magnetic.

As Riyal ascended higher into the sky, the ground below fading into a blur of greens and browns, my thoughts spiralled into chaos. My mind was a battlefield of conflicting emotions, a whirlwind of memories and sensations. The lingering ghost of Zaydon’s hands on my body, his lips pressed against mine, clashed violently with the present reality of Riyal holding me now, his strong arms cradling me with an almost protective gentleness. The contrast was sharp, almost jarring—a tug-of-war between past and present, between fire and air.

And then, as if my mind sought to further torment me, a darker thought intruded. Unbidden, an image took shape, vivid and all-consuming: Zaydon and Riyal, their opposing energies intertwining, their hands on my skin, their bodies impossibly close to mine. Zaydon’s primal heat, Riyal’s ethereal coolness—it was a sinful, forbidden fantasy that burned through me like wildfire. I had no right to entertain such a thought, yet it gripped me, stirring something deep within me that I wasn’t ready to confront. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly wrong.

A sudden movement snapped me back to reality. Riyal’s head dipped sharply, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. His gaze was sharp, almost startled as if he had glimpsed something he shouldn’t have. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Could he sense my thoughts? My face burned as I realised the likelihood of it. Riyal’s kind—the angelic descendants of Seraphim—were known for their ability to read minds, an innate and rare gift passed through their bloodline.

His usually calm expression faltered, and a deep blush crept across his cheeks, a vivid splash of colour on his pale skin. His lips parted as if to speak, but instead, a soft gasp escaped him. His wings faltered momentarily before he recovered, beating harder to propel us higher, away from the ground—and my embarrassment.

“I swear, virgins are the most amorous creatures,” Riyal muttered under his breath, his voice low but unmistakable.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he had spoken aloud or if his words were a whisper carried on the wind, but the accusation stung like a slap. My cheeks flushed an even deeper scarlet, the heat crawling up my neck as shame and indignation warred within me. The fact that he might have overheard my fantasy made me want to curl into myself and disappear entirely. 

I silently wished for the flight to end, hoping the cold wind rushing through the sky might extinguish the fire raging inside me.

The icy air delivered on its promise, stinging my skin as Riyal’s powerful wings carried us higher. Despite his efforts to shield me, the biting cold crept in, wrapping itself around me like an unforgiving shroud. His arms tightened protectively, offering what little warmth he could, but it wasn’t enough. My teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, the chill burrowing deeper into my bones with each relentless gust.

"Princess, are you alright?" Riyal's voice was low and steady, his lips close to my ear so I could hear him over the rush of wind as we soared through the air.

"I’m f-fine," I stammered, though the uncontrollable tremors wracking my body betrayed the lie in my words. My voice sounded weak, almost swallowed by the howling wind.

"We’re almost there, just—"

My words were abruptly cut off as Riyal came to an unexpected halt in midair. His wings beat furiously against the gusts, their powerful rhythm keeping us aloft. His entire body tensed, his gaze fixed ahead with an intensity that sent a chill racing through me. Something was wrong.

Twisting to see what had stopped him, my breath caught. Zaydon hovered before us, his wings beating with powerful, calculated strokes. His once familiar green-and-gold eyes had shifted to a fiery crimson, the colour striking against the growing dusk. His expression was dark, menacing, and utterly dangerous.

"Zaydon..." I whispered, my voice trembling as the tension in the air grew thick. His eyes locked onto Riyal, the space between us crackling with an unspoken challenge.

"Give. Her. To. Me," Zaydon snarled, venom dripping from every word. His crimson eyes burned like embers in the growing twilight, their intensity enough to make my stomach churn with unease.

Riyal tightened his arms around me protectively, his wings faltering ever so slightly as he tried to maintain composure. For a moment, I saw something terrifying in Zaydon’s eyes—a switch, ready to flip, that would unleash a wrath I wasn’t sure anyone could stop. I forgot all about the biting cold as my thoughts raced. 

What the hell was wrong with Zaydon? His behaviour had been so erratic. One moment, he was kissing me back with unrestrained passion; the next, he was cold and distant, and now he was possessive to the point of terrifying.

What I’d give to be able to read thoughts like Riyal right now so I could understand what was going on in Zaydon’s head for just a second.

Riyal’s grip grew even tighter, his hold teetering on the edge of painful. I could feel the tension radiating from him as he squared off against Zaydon, a silent battle of wills unfolding before my eyes. The conflict in Riyal’s gaze was clear—the loyalty he held toward Zaydon warred against his concern for my safety. Zaydon’s crimson eyes flicked between Riyal’s tense face, his firm grip on me, and the space between us narrowing dangerously. The rage simmering in his gaze was feral, unrelenting.

"High Commander, it’s dangerous to pass her over mid flight. I swear I was only asking Princess Azalea if she was alright," Riyal said carefully, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. Every word was measured, an attempt to reason with the beast that now stood before him.

But Zaydon wasn’t interested in reason. His expression hardened further, his fury building like a storm on the verge of tearing through everything in its path. The air around us seemed to hum with the weight of his rage, crackling with an unseen energy that made every breath feel heavier. For the first time, I saw Riyal, usually so calm and composed, falter. His wings fluttered unevenly under the oppressive weight of Zaydon’s presence.

Before Riyal could react further, Zaydon moved. His thick, muscled arm shot out with terrifying speed, his hand clamping down on Riyal’s jaw like an iron vice. The suddenness of the action left no room for the defence, and a horrified gasp escaped my lips as Riyal’s face contorted in pain.

Zaydon’s grip was merciless. His fingers dug into Riyal’s jaw, the skin around them turning pale under the crushing pressure. As if to make his dominance unmistakable, the flesh on Zaydon’s hand began to shift, black scales rippling across his skin. Onyx-colored talons emerged, sharp and deadly, digging into Riyal’s flesh until crimson droplets welled up around the puncture wounds. The blood stood out starkly against Riyal’s pale complexion, an undeniable testament to Zaydon’s growing impatience.

Riyal let out a sharp, pained yelp, his lips curling back in a grimace as Zaydon’s talons dug deeper. My heart thundered in my chest, torn between horror and the strange, magnetic force of the display. It was as if I couldn’t look away, even though every instinct screamed for me to intervene.

Before I could say anything, Zaydon spoke, his voice low and dangerous, each word laced with icy malice. "I must have stuttered when I spoke because there’s no other reason for you to disobey me, boy." He leaned closer, his crimson eyes narrowing further. "So, I’ll give you the chance to correct yourself. I said give her to me. Now!"

Riyal, visibly shaken and clearly outmatched, gave a tight, reluctant nod. His wings trembled under the pressure of Zaydon’s presence, and his arms loosened around me as he prepared to comply.

Zaydon, satisfied with the show of submission, smirked smugly as he loosened his grip on Riyal’s jaw. He let his talons retreat, though the black scales remained. Holding his arms out, Zaydon waited with the expectation of complete obedience, his gaze daring Riyal to hesitate even for a moment.

My eyes widened in disbelief as Riyal began to adjust his hold, shifting to pass me over. The realisation hit me like a freight train.

Was Zaydon actually planning to take me in mid-air?

No. No way. That was insane.

Fuck that.