Chapter 176: A Dance Of Trust
"The Oracle speaks of the return of the Great Dragon..." Leroy murmured, his voice heavy, strained. "And she holds you captive..."
His eyes drifted to the table behind the divider of the bath chamber, where the parchment lay, that contained words Lorraine hadn’t realized she had written.
Lorraine could feel the slight tremble in his hand as he held her close. She understood now, with heartbreaking clarity, the twisted logic driving his fear. The Oracle, legendary, revered, and feared, was speaking through her to channel visions of the Great Dragon King’s return. In their world, she was known as a woman so devoted to her husband, and it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think of her intention to return to the side of her husband once he returned.
If the Oracle could "surface" through Lorraine, speaking of the Dragon King’s return, could Leroy be blamed for thinking that one day... she might lose control of her own body, her own will to the oracle, to be united again with that mythical husband of the oracle?
It was a valid fear.
And in his twisted, desperate way, Leroy thought that by defying the Oracle’s desires, by submitting to the Dowager, avoiding war, he could protect her.
Her heart softened. His love wasn’t in empty words. It was in his actions, in his every silent sacrifice.
She had wasted ten years searching for words, trying to grasp the meaning of his silence. But now... she knew.
His actions had always spoken louder than any vow. She regretted looking for words while she ignored his actions, even when his silence had hurt her.
She wouldn’t waste any more time with him.
"I hear you," she said softly. The words were steady, resolute. Her habitually silent husband had just revealed his deepest fear, and the worst she could do was dismiss him. Instead, she would listen.
"I’ve seen her," Lorraine continued, her voice gentle but firm. "I didn’t sense any ill intent from her; nothing but... love." She met his gaze. "And you forget one thing, Leroy. She spoke of the heir, didn’t she?"
"She said the Great Dragon would rule again," Leroy replied, his brow furrowed.
Heir? Had the Oracle spoken of an heir? He couldn’t quite remember.
"I agree we must be cautious. I will be cautious around her," she said, her tone unwavering. "And if I learn how to resist her control, I shall do it. Until then..."
Her arms slid up his shoulders, her body pressing against his, the heat between them unmistakable. She climbed on him, soft lips brushing his, peck after peck, until one kiss wasn’t enough. She smooched his lips again... and again, deliberately, seductively.
"You forget one little thing, Dearest Husband..." she teased, her lips parting, her voice dripping with invitation.
His hold on her waist tightened instinctively. He leaned in, the water in the tub splashing around them, his mouth claiming hers more deeply, more urgently.
"What did I forget?" he asked, his breath mingling with hers as he pulled back for a moment, eyes searching hers.
"Hmpf..." Lorraine smirked, her confidence blooming. She kissed him once more, letting her finger tangle in his golden hair, then leaned back just enough so their eyes could meet fully. Her index finger twisted around his braid, pulling him closer, her smirk deepening with intent.
"If I could do this when I barely understood the weight of your love for me..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, dripping with conviction, "...then behold me now."
Her fingers clenched around his braid like iron, drawing him without mercy, without hesitation. Her eyes, cold like ice from a millennium-old glacier, fixed on his green eyes.
"Even the most wretched leeches, the vilest parasites, would crumble in the shadow of my selfishness. No one. No one, my sweetest Leroy... holds claim over me but you. I am yours alone... irrevocably, without regret."
Leroy raised an eyebrow, still shadowed by doubt, but now tempered by unwavering trust.
Because nothing, neither Oracle nor prophecy nor fear, could shake the certainty of the woman in his arms. Nothing mattered more than her words.
"So says the woman who wanted to leave me..." Leroy’s voice was a low growl as his hand tightened in the back of her hair, pulling her head closer, more possessively than tenderly.
"To Corvalith," Lorraine replied with a soft and defiant smile.
His grip was far from gentle, but it didn’t need to be. That was the paradox of them. Not gentle, and yet never cruel. Every touch, every pull, every sigh was calibrated with unspoken care. Even in his roughness, he knew exactly how far to go without causing pain.
He bit into the soft skin just above the crook of her neck, that delicate, vulnerable hollow where her pulse throbbed strongest; where life and surrender converged. Her most tender place, and the one she allowed only him to touch so freely, even with teeth. Because he alone had that right.
His lips pressed warmly against her skin, spreading heat, while his teeth clamped lightly, never piercing, always restrained. His jaw remained taut, as if holding back the very desire that threatened to consume him.
They existed in this fragile, exquisite balance... a dance of trust.
She gave him that access willingly. Even if he wanted to mark her, even if he longed to burn his claim into her flesh, she didn’t mind bearing it.
And he, her husband and her protector, would never truly harm her. Despite every primal instinct raging within him, every urge screaming at him to possess her utterly.
Her fingers sank deeper into his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to stay.
His teeth remained clamped gently, teasing and tantalizing, his warm breath falling in soft, erotic whispers across her neck. The mingling scent of his hair and the bathwater created a heady, intoxicating blend, drawing her in further. She buried her nose in the thick softness of his hair, drinking in the scent of him as though it were a lifeline.
"And look where it’s led me..." she murmured, voice sultry yet certain. "I can’t go to Corvalith now. No... Something... Fate, perhaps, wants us together. Don’t you think?"
Her words were meant to imprint onto his heart, the confused, silent part of him. To make it clear that leaving was no longer an option for her. And maybe... just maybe... fate was finally on their side.
A low, primal grunt escaped his lips, filled with dark need. His teeth released her skin with slow deliberation, leaving behind a mark, a deep, dark hickey that would bloom over the next days, undeniable and for all to see.
His lips descended, sucking, nibbling along the tender skin of her neck, imprinting her with his claim.
Her fingers tangled deeper in his hair, drawing him closer still, as though anchoring both of them in that moment of shared, reckless surrender. Her chest arched toward him as his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.