Hello, AMagicWriter here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of The Realm's Alpha
If you want to Read 10 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'patreon.com/AMagicWriter40' on Websearch
The following 10 chapters are already available to Patrons.
Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, and Chapter 33 are already available for Patrons.
The candlelight danced across Kinvara's face, casting shadows at her beautiful face. Rhaenyra felt a bead of sweat trickle between her shoulder blades—not from fear, but from the oppressive heat radiating from both the multitude of candles and the priestess herself.
"Tell me, Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of your name... how far would you go to claim not just a kingdom, but a world?" Kinvara's voice carried an accent that made each word sound like both a prayer and a promise.
Rhaenyra's throat felt dry. The image of herself astride Syrax above foreign cities burned in her mind despite her attempts to dismiss it. "A world?" she scoffed, rolling her shoulders back to stand taller, though the priestess still towered over her. "I've yet to secure even my father's throne."
This woman speaks madness, Rhaenyra thought, yet why do her words stir something in my blood?
Kinvara moved toward her, closing the distance between them. Each step made the air seem thicker, heavier with the scent of exotic incense and something else—something that reminded Rhaenyra of Dragonstone after Syrax had unleashed her fire.
"Your body betrays your ambition, Princess." Kinvara's voice dropped to a throaty whisper that seemed to vibrate through Rhaenyra's chest and settle between her thighs. "The ancient Valyrian scrolls speak of those born as you were—with both the sword and the sheath."
Heat flared in Rhaenyra's cheeks, not from embarrassment but indignation. Her hand twitched toward her dagger, fingers wrapping around the hilt. "Careful, priestess," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Others have lost their tongues for less."
Kinvara seemed amused by the threat. Her full lips curved upward, revealing teeth as white as dragon bone. She raised a hand, and Rhaenyra tensed, but instead of a threatening gesture, Kinvara's scorching fingertips merely brushed against her cheek.
The touch was electric—like the spark before dragonflame. Rhaenyra's pulse quickened, the sensation shooting down her spine and awakening parts of her she'd rather keep dormant in this confrontation.
"You're burning up," Rhaenyra said, struggling to maintain her composure as heat pooled low in her belly.
"All who serve R'hllor carry his flame within them." Kinvara's fingers traced down Rhaenyra's neck, lingering at the pulse point where Rhaenyra knew her heartbeat betrayed her. "Some more than others."
Rhaenyra caught the wandering hand, gripping the wrist firmly enough to convey authority but not to harm. The priestess's skin felt unnaturally hot beneath her fingers, as though Kinvara's blood were liquid fire. "You still haven't explained why I should trust your visions."
Instead of pulling away, Kinvara stepped closer still, until her body pressed against Rhaenyra's. Through the layers of their clothing, Rhaenyra could feel the priestess's curves—full breasts with hardened nipples pressing against her own smaller chest, the heat of her core radiating outward like a forge.
Seven hells, Rhaenyra thought, feeling her cock stir traitorously against her breeches. She's doing this deliberately.
"Because I've seen what lies beneath your ambition." Kinvara's free hand moved to Rhaenyra's hip, her touch light but commanding. "You don't merely want the throne; you want to remake the world. You want to break the wheel of men who have ruled poorly, and forge something greater."
The words echoed Rhaenyra's most private thoughts—ideas she'd never shared, even with Daemon. How could this foreign priestess know the shape of her dreams?
Rhaenyra's breathing quickened involuntarily as Kinvara's hand slid lower, resting just above the juncture of her thighs. Even through her breeches, she could feel the priestess's unnatural heat seeping into her flesh, calling forth a response she couldn't control.
"And what else have your flames shown you?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice huskier than intended, roughened by unwanted desire.
Kinvara's smile was knowing, almost smug. "They've shown me your appetites." Her eyes, reflecting the candlelight, seemed to see through Rhaenyra's clothing, through her skin, into her very core. "The women you've taken to your bed. The way you use both aspects of your nature. The power you feel when you're inside them."
Rhaenyra's cock twitched at the words, beginning to strain against the confines of her breeches. She silently cursed her body's betrayal, the way it responded to this witch's words as readily as it did to her touch.
"You claim to see much," Rhaenyra said, fighting to keep her voice steady as heat and pressure built between her legs.
"I see everything." Kinvara's hand moved deliberately, cupping Rhaenyra through her breeches. The pressure was perfect—firm enough to send jolts of pleasure coursing through her, skilled enough to make Rhaenyra's breath catch in her throat. "Including this."
The room seemed to pulse with the beating of the candle flames, which flared higher in time with Rhaenyra's quickening heartbeat.
"In Asshai," Kinvara continued, her voice silky as her hand worked skillfully against Rhaenyra's growing hardness, "those born as you were are considered blessed by the gods. In ancient Valyria, they were believed to be living embodiments of the dragon—fire made flesh in its truest form."
Rhaenyra's control was slipping. Her hips betrayed her, pushing against Kinvara's hand, seeking more friction. The priestess's touch, combined with her words, formed a pleasurable spell that clouded Rhaenyra's judgment.
I must regain control, she thought desperately. I am the blood of the dragon, not some common whore to be manipulated by pretty words and a skillful hand.
"Tell me of this empire you claim I'll build," Rhaenyra demanded, trying to direct the conversation away from her body's reactions, even as her hips continued their subtle, traitorous movements.
"You will begin here, with the Stepstones," Kinvara said, her other hand now sliding up Rhaenyra's torso to cup her breast through her doublet. The touch was possessive, presumptuous. "But you won't stop there. The flames showed you taking Dorne—the unconquered land—then looking east."
Kinvara's thumb circled Rhaenyra's nipple, which hardened instantly beneath the fabric. "I saw you in Volantis, in Lys, in Myr. I saw you where even Aegon never flew—to Asshai by the Shadow, to Yi Ti, to lands beyond the maps of your maesters."
Rhaenyra's head swam with the images Kinvara's words conjured, with the sensations her hands evoked. The room felt furnace-hot, the air too thick to breathe properly. Blood pounded in her ears, and her cock was fully hard now, straining painfully against her clothing.
"Empress of Flame," Kinvara whispered, her lips a breath away from Rhaenyra's. "That is your destiny. Not merely queen of one small continent, but ruler of a world reborn in fire."
Something in Rhaenyra snapped. She would not be toyed with, would not be manipulated like some love-struck maiden. She grabbed Kinvara by her ruby choker, intending to push her away, to reassert the dominance that was her birthright.
But before she could act, Kinvara moved, capturing Rhaenyra's lips in a searing kiss that tasted of smoke and honey. The priestess's tongue pushed past Rhaenyra's lips with confident authority, exploring her mouth as though claiming territory.
The kiss was consuming—hot and wet and skilled beyond anything Rhaenyra had experienced. Despite herself, a moan rose from deep in her chest, vibrating against Kinvara's lips. The priestess's full breasts pressed against her, her superior height allowing her to bend Rhaenyra slightly backward, controlling the angle of their connection.
No, Rhaenyra thought through the haze of desire. This is not how this will go.
But her body betrayed her once more as Kinvara's hand continued its maddening pressure between her legs, and her treacherous voice released another moan into the priestess's mouth.
When Kinvara finally broke the kiss, Rhaenyra was panting, her lips swollen and tingling from the priestess's supernatural heat. A thin strand of saliva connected them briefly before breaking, and Rhaenyra saw triumph flash in Kinvara's eyes—a look that rekindled her determination beneath the fog of desire.
"You kiss well for a priestess," Rhaenyra said, attempting to regain her footing in this dangerous dance. "I wonder what other skills your god has blessed you with."
Kinvara's laugh was musical and knowing. "The Lord of Light teaches us that pleasure and power are twin flames from the same source." Her fingers moved to the fastenings of Rhaenyra's doublet. "Would you like me to show you the extent of my... devotion?"
The priestess's height allowed her to look down upon the princess with a maddening air of superiority. Each time Rhaenyra straightened her spine to appear more commanding, Kinvara seemed to grow even taller, like a flame stretching toward the sky.
"I would see what you hide beneath those robes first," Rhaenyra countered, reaching for the clasps that held Kinvara's crimson silk together.
The priestess made no move to stop her, but caught Rhaenyra's wrists and guided them deliberately, as though teaching a child. "Like this," she murmured, directing Rhaenyra's fingers to hidden hooks along her collarbone.
With a sound like sighing, the robe fell open, revealing Kinvara's body in its full glory. Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat. She had bedded many beautiful women, highborn ladies with skin like milk—but Kinvara's body was something else entirely.
"By the Seven," Rhaenyra breathed, her cock hardening painfully against her breeches at the sight.
Kinvara laughed, a musical sound that seemed to make the candle flames dance higher. "Not your Seven, Princess. Only R'hllor grants such gifts." She placed her hands on Rhaenyra's shoulders, pushing the doublet completely off before working at the laces of her shirt. "And tonight, R'hllor would have you worship at a different altar."
"Your body..." Rhaenyra murmured, reaching out to trace one of the patterns that curved beneath the swell of Kinvara's left breast.
"Is a temple," Kinvara finished. "And temples are made for worship."
Her breasts were full and high, crowned with dusky nipples already stiff with arousal. They looked impossibly perfect, as though sculpted by some divine hand rather than grown naturally. The skin covering them was golden-bronze, radiating that unnatural heat that made Rhaenyra's mouth water with the desire to taste them.
Gods, Rhaenyra thought, they're magnificent.
"You may touch them," Kinvara said, reading her thoughts. "Many have desired to, but few are worthy."
The presumption of the priestess—that she decided who was worthy of her body—should have angered Rhaenyra. Instead, it only heightened her arousal, making her cock pulse painfully against her breeches.
Rhaenyra reached out, cupping the weight of one breast in her palm. The heat coming from Kinvara's skin was intense, almost uncomfortable, but the softness beneath her fingers was exquisite. She squeezed experimentally, and Kinvara's small intake of breath was the first genuine reaction Rhaenyra had elicited from her.
Encouraged, Rhaenyra traced her thumb over the hardened peak, watching as Kinvara's pupils dilated slightly. "You're sensitive here," Rhaenyra observed, circling the nipple more firmly.
"All flames respond to the right touch," Kinvara replied, but her voice had deepened slightly, betraying her composure.
Meanwhile, the priestess had finished with the fastenings of Rhaenyra's doublet, pushing it from her shoulders to reveal the thin shirt beneath. Through the fabric, Rhaenyra's smaller breasts were visible, her own nipples hard points against the cloth.
Kinvara's hot hands moved to cup them, thumbs gliding over the peaks with practiced skill. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure directly to Rhaenyra's groin, making her throb with need.
"Your body sings such beautiful songs," Kinvara murmured, leaning down to place her lips against Rhaenyra's neck. "Let me hear more of its music."
Her mouth was scorching against Rhaenyra's pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin before her tongue soothed the sting. Rhaenyra tilted her head without meaning to, giving the priestess better access.
She's too good at this, Rhaenyra thought hazily as Kinvara's hands continued their exploration, one sliding down to cup her through her breeches again. I need to take control.
Acting on impulse, Rhaenyra leaned forward and captured one of Kinvara's nipples between her lips. The taste was intoxicating—salt and something spiced, like cinnamon and cloves. The heat was almost too much for her tongue, but the small gasp from above made it worthwhile.
Rhaenyra suckled more firmly, using her tongue to flick against the hardened peak while her hand kneaded the other breast. The flesh was impossibly soft in her palm, yielding yet firm, a perfect contradiction like Kinvara herself.
But even as Rhaenyra tried to wrest control back through this act, Kinvara's hand had found its way inside her breeches, long fingers wrapping around her length with deliberate pressure. The first stroke made Rhaenyra moan against Kinvara's breast, the sound muffled by the soft flesh.
"Yes," Kinvara encouraged, her voice a velvet caress. "Let me hear how much you enjoy my touch."
The priestess's hand was like no other Rhaenyra had felt—impossibly hot and slick, though with what, Rhaenyra couldn't tell. It glided along her length with perfect pressure, thumb circling the sensitive head on each upstroke, gathering the moisture beading there to ease her movements.
Rhaenyra's hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that exquisite friction. Her mouth worked harder at Kinvara's breast, teeth grazing the nipple before sucking it deeply, trying to elicit more reactions from the too-composed priestess.
"Kinvara," Rhaenyra moaned against the woman's skin, hating the neediness in her voice but unable to suppress it as those skilled fingers twisted on the upstroke, sending shocks of pleasure through her groin.
"Yes, princess?" The smug satisfaction in Kinvara's voice was unmistakable. She knew exactly what she was doing to Rhaenyra, how she was breaking down her defenses stroke by stroke.
Rhaenyra released the nipple with a wet pop, moving to the other breast to lavish it with the same attention. Her tongue circled the areola before flicking rapidly over the peak, techniques that had made other women cry out and beg for more. Kinvara merely hummed with appreciation, her hand never faltering in its maddening rhythm on Rhaenyra's cock.
Seven hells, Rhaenyra thought, feeling pressure building at the base of her spine already. I refuse to finish so quickly, like some green boy with his first whore.
She reached down to still Kinvara's hand, but the priestess anticipated the move. With her free hand, she caught Rhaenyra's wrist and guided it instead to the apex of her own thighs. Through the remaining silk of her robes, Rhaenyra could feel the intense heat radiating from Kinvara's sex.
"Feel what you do to me, princess," Kinvara urged, pressing Rhaenyra's palm against her core. "Feel how wet I am for the dragon."
And indeed, the silk was soaked through, clinging to the outline of Kinvara's sex beneath. Rhaenyra's fingers pressed experimentally, finding the hard bud of pleasure through the fabric, circling it firmly.
Kinvara's breath hitched—a small victory that Rhaenyra savored. But it was short-lived as the priestess increased her pace, her grip tightening just below the head of Rhaenyra's cock in a way that made coherent thought impossible.
"You fight against pleasure as though it were your enemy," Kinvara observed, her voice only slightly affected by Rhaenyra's ministrations. "In Asshai, we embrace it as our greatest teacher."
Rhaenyra's reply was lost as Kinvara twisted her wrist in a particularly skillful way, sending lightning up her spine. Her knees weakened treacherously, and she found herself leaning more heavily against Kinvara's body, her face pressed between those magnificent breasts.
The scent of Kinvara's skin was overwhelming—incense and exotic spices and the metallic tang of magic. Rhaenyra's tongue darted out to taste the valley between her breasts, salty-sweet and burning hot.
"I won't submit," Rhaenyra managed to say, though the declaration lost some of its force as it was spoken against Kinvara's sternum, her breath coming in short pants.
"Everyone submits to something, princess," Kinvara replied, her free hand tangling in Rhaenyra's silver-gold hair, guiding her mouth back to a nipple. "Kings to their crowns, warriors to their blades... and dragons to their flames."
Rhaenyra took the offered breast back into her mouth, sucking harder now, using teeth and tongue in a determined effort to break through Kinvara's maddening composure. Her hand between the priestess's legs pushed the silk aside, seeking direct contact with the wet heat beneath.
But before her fingers could find their target, Kinvara executed a move so unexpected and skillful that Rhaenyra could only gasp in shock. The priestess's hand, still wrapped around her cock, twisted while simultaneously applying pressure to a spot just behind her sack with her other hand—a spot Rhaenyra hadn't even known was sensitive.
The dual sensation was overwhelming. Pleasure exploded through Rhaenyra's groin, radiating outward in waves that made her cry out loudly against Kinvara's breast. Her hips jerked forward helplessly, fucking into the priestess's hand with abandoned need.
"Fuuuuck," Rhaenyra moaned, the crude word muffled against Kinvara's flesh. She was close—so close—and they'd barely begun. The thought was humiliating, but the pleasure was too intense to resist.
Kinvara's hand never slowed, working Rhaenyra with expert precision. Her other hand continued that maddening pressure on that secret spot, sending jolts of ecstasy through Rhaenyra with each subtle movement.
"It's alright to submit, princess," Kinvara's voice was honey and smoke in Rhaenyra's ear. "Even dragons must surrender to what burns hotter than themselves."
As if to prove her point, her stroking hand suddenly emitted more heat, not enough to burn but enough to send a jolt of pleasure so intense that Rhaenyra's knees nearly buckled. A loud moan escaped her, muffled against Kinvara's large, juicy breast.
"That's it," Kinvara encouraged, her free hand stroking Rhaenyra's hair almost tenderly. "Give in to it. There is no shame in submitting to power greater than your own... for now."
Something about those last two words registered dimly in Rhaenyra's pleasure-fogged mind—a challenge, a promise of future reckoning. But her body was betraying her utterly now, responding to Kinvara's expert ministrations with embarrassing eagerness.
"I can feel you getting closer," Kinvara whispered, bending to speak directly into Rhaenyra's ear. "Your cock is throbbing in my hand, princess. So hard, so ready."
Rhaenyra wanted to resist, wanted to prove she couldn't be manipulated so easily, but Kinvara made another movement with her hand—a twist combined with increased pressure—that sent lightning racing up her spine. She moaned loudly, her lips still pressed against the priestess's luscious breast.
Rhaenyra whimpered, feeling helpless as tension coiled tighter in her core. Her hips moved of their own accord now, thrusting into Kinvara's grip, chasing release. She was so close, teetering on the edge, her pride forgotten in the face of overwhelming need.
"Cum for me, Rhaenyra Targaryen," Kinvara commanded, her voice resonating with power that seemed to vibrate through Rhaenyra's very bones. "Cum now."
The command broke something loose inside her. With a cry of "Kinvara!" Rhaenyra's release crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her cock pulsed powerfully in the priestess's hand, spurting thick jets of seed that seemed endless. The intensity was unlike anything she'd experienced before—wave after wave of pleasure washing through her, leaving her gasping and shaking.
Kinvara continued stroking her through it, milking every last drop until Rhaenyra thought she might collapse from the sensation. The amount was prodigious, enough to coat Kinvara's hand completely and drip onto the stone floor below.
When the last shudder passed through her body, Rhaenyra looked up at Kinvara, expecting to see triumph in the priestess's eyes. Instead, she saw something more complex—satisfaction yes, but also anticipation, as though this was merely the opening move in a much longer game.
Despite her release, Rhaenyra was surprised to find herself still hard in Kinvara's hand. Her stamina had always been remarkable, a trait that had pleased her many lovers. But now, looking at the self-satisfied smile on Kinvara's beautiful face, that gift felt like a vulnerability.
"A fine beginning," Kinvara said, bringing her hand to her mouth and slowly, deliberately licking Rhaenyra's seed from her fingers. The sight was obscenely arousing. "But we have only just started, princess."
Rhaenyra's breathing gradually steadied as the aftershocks of her explosive release subsided, but the fire in her veins hadn't diminished. If anything, it burned hotter now, stoked by indignation at her own surrender and the smug satisfaction in Kinvara's eyes.
I am blood of the dragon, she reminded herself. I do not submit.
With sudden force, Rhaenyra shoved Kinvara backward. The priestess didn't resist, allowing herself to fall onto the massive canopied bed, her copper skin stark against the dark furs, her magnificent breasts barely shifting despite the impact.
"My turn," Rhaenyra growled, climbing onto the bed with predatory intent. Her cock remained impressively hard despite her recent climax, bobbing slightly with each movement. "Let's see if your flames have shown you what's coming next."
Kinvara spread her arms wide, her posture open and inviting rather than submissive. "Show me your fire, zaldrīzes," she purred, using the Valyrian word for dragon in a way that sounded like both endearment and challenge.
Rhaenyra crawled up Kinvara's body, determined to wipe that knowing smile from the priestess's face. She grabbed Kinvara's wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while the other explored the expanse of the woman's unnaturally hot skin.
"You think you know me from your visions?" Rhaenyra asked, lowering her head to Kinvara's neck. She bit down—hard enough to leave a mark—then soothed the spot with her tongue. "Let's see if your flames showed you how I like to make women scream."
Kinvara's laugh was like distant music. "The flames show many things, Princess. Including how desperately you want to hear me cry out your name."
The words stoked Rhaenyra's determination. She would make this woman moan, make her beg, make her forget her precious R'hllor and remember only Rhaenyra Targaryen.
She released Kinvara's wrists to use both hands on those magnificent breasts, kneading the soft yet firm flesh. Each one filled both of Rhaenyra's hands completely, their warmth seeping into her palms. She lowered her head and captured a dark nipple between her teeth, biting just enough to test Kinvara's composure.
The priestess's breath hitched slightly—a small victory that Rhaenyra seized upon. She sucked harder, circling the areola with her tongue while her fingers found the other nipple, pinching and rolling it between thumb and forefinger.
"Is this what your flames showed you?" Rhaenyra murmured against Kinvara's skin. "Did they show you how I would taste you?"
"They showed me pleasure," Kinvara replied, her voice steady despite the slight arch of her back as Rhaenyra sucked particularly hard. "But even R'hllor's visions cannot capture every... nuance."
Rhaenyra released the nipple with a wet pop, then traced a path downward with her tongue, tasting the salt and spice of Kinvara's skin. The priestess's body was a marvel—taut and soft in perfect measure, radiating a heat that made Rhaenyra's mouth water.
When she reached the neatly trimmed patch of black hair between Kinvara's thighs, she paused, looking up the length of the woman's body. "Watch me," Rhaenyra commanded. "I want you to see what I'm about to do to you."
Kinvara propped herself up on her elbows, her massive breasts shifting with the movement. Her eyes, dark and glittering, met Rhaenyra's with that same maddening self-assurance.
Rhaenyra grinned wolfishly, then lowered her head. She was skilled at this—had learned from Mysaria and practiced extensively on Alicent and others. With deliberate slowness, she parted Kinvara's folds with her thumbs, revealing glistening pink flesh already slick with desire.
"At least your body acknowledges who's in control," Rhaenyra murmured, before running her tongue in a long, flat stroke from Kinvara's entrance to the hooded bud at the apex of her sex.
The taste was unlike any woman Rhaenyra had pleasured before—sweet with an exotic spiciness, like foreign wine laced with cinnamon and cloves. And the heat—gods, it was like licking liquid fire, but pleasurable rather than painful.
Rhaenyra set to her task with enthusiasm, alternating between broad strokes of her tongue and precise flicks against Kinvara's clit. She slipped two fingers inside the priestess, marveling at the scorching heat that enveloped them.
"Seven hells, you're burning inside," Rhaenyra gasped, momentarily breaking her rhythm.
"The fire of R'hllor burns in all his servants," Kinvara replied, her voice impressively steady given Rhaenyra's attentions. "Some more literally than others."
Rhaenyra redoubled her efforts, determined to break through that composure. She curled her fingers upward, searching for the spot that had made Laena scream and Alicent weep with pleasure. When she found it, she pressed firmly while sucking Kinvara's clit between her lips.
A soft sigh escaped the priestess—not the desperate moan Rhaenyra had been aiming for, but a definite reaction. Encouraged, Rhaenyra established a rhythm, her fingers thrusting and curling as her tongue danced over Kinvara's most sensitive flesh.
"Like this?" Rhaenyra asked, her breath hot against Kinvara's sex. "Or perhaps..." She changed the angle of her fingers, pressing deeper.
To her surprise, Kinvara reached down and placed a hand on Rhaenyra's head, guiding her gently but firmly. "Like this, Princess," she instructed, moving Rhaenyra's head slightly to the left. "Your enthusiasm is admirable, but precision is everything."
The guidance was so unexpected that Rhaenyra nearly pulled away in indignation. But then Kinvara's fingers threaded through her silver-blonde hair, the touch somehow both commanding and caressing, and Rhaenyra found herself following the direction.
"Yes, there," Kinvara encouraged as Rhaenyra's tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. "Now faster with your fingers, but gentler with your tongue."
She's instructing me as if I were some untried maiden, Rhaenyra thought with irritation. But when she followed the guidance, Kinvara's breathing deepened, her internal muscles tightening around Rhaenyra's fingers.
"Good," Kinvara praised, her voice huskier now but still frustratingly controlled. "You learn quickly, good zaldrīzes."
The praise shouldn't have pleased Rhaenyra—it should have angered her. Yet she found herself warming to it, eager to earn more of those quiet sounds of approval. She worked diligently, following Kinvara's subtle directions, her own arousal building again as she tasted the priestess's increasing wetness.
"Now curl your fingers more firmly," Kinvara instructed. "Yes, just there."
Rhaenyra obeyed, rewarded by the subtle arch of Kinvara's hips and a barely audible catch in her breathing. She looked up, watching the priestess's face for signs of breaking composure. Kinvara's eyes were half-lidded now, her full lips parted slightly, but she still maintained that infuriating control.
Determined to shatter it, Rhaenyra suddenly withdrew her fingers and mouth, earning a flicker of surprise in Kinvara's eyes.
"Turn over," Rhaenyra commanded.
Kinvara raised an eyebrow but complied, rolling onto her stomach. The sight of her from behind was breathtaking—the elegant sweep of her spine, the flare of her hips, the perfect roundness of her ass. The red tattoos that Rhaenyra had glimpsed earlier curved around her ribs and down her back, forming patterns that seemed to shift in the candlelight.
Rhaenyra moved behind her, lifting Kinvara's hips to position her on hands and knees. "Let's see how composed you remain like this," she said, her voice rough with renewed desire.
She slid her fingers through Kinvara's folds from behind, gathering wetness before pushing three fingers inside her. The angle allowed for deeper penetration, and Rhaenyra took full advantage, thrusting firmly while her other hand reached around to find Kinvara's clit.
Kinvara's head dropped forward, her long hair cascading around her face like a curtain of dark fire. She made a sound—not quite a moan, but close enough to encourage Rhaenyra.
"You like that?" Rhaenyra asked, increasing her pace. "You like being taken from behind?"
"I like many things, Princess," Kinvara replied, her voice steady despite the slight tremor Rhaenyra could feel in her thighs. "Including your eagerness to please."
Before Rhaenyra could respond to what felt like both compliment and condescension, Kinvara shifted her weight and reached back, her hand finding Rhaenyra's still-hard cock. Her touch was like a brand, hot and possessive, stroking firmly even as Rhaenyra's fingers continued their work inside her.
"But while you please me," Kinvara continued, her hand setting a rhythm that made Rhaenyra's breath hitch, "I can please you too. Pleasure given returns as pleasure received—a teaching of the Lord of Light."
Rhaenyra hadn't expected this—hadn't anticipated Kinvara turning the tables so effectively while still in what should have been a submissive position. The priestess's hand moved with that same uncanny skill, as though she knew exactly how to touch Rhaenyra to drive her mad with desire.
"Stop that," Rhaenyra gasped, trying to maintain her focus on pleasuring Kinvara. "This is about making you—"
"Making me what, Princess?" Kinvara asked, twisting to look over her shoulder with that maddening smile. "Surrender? Scream your name?" Her hand tightened around Rhaenyra's cock, twisting slightly on the upstroke. "Perhaps that is not what the flames have shown me."
Rhaenyra's rhythm faltered as pleasure threatened to overwhelm her concentration. Kinvara took advantage of the moment, suddenly shifting her weight to roll them both. Rhaenyra found herself on her back, with Kinvara straddling her waist, those magnificent breasts swaying hypnotically above her.
"How did you—" Rhaenyra began, disoriented by the sudden change in position.
"The flames show many things," Kinvara said, moving down Rhaenyra's body until she straddled her thighs. "Including the pressure points that temporarily weaken even the strongest warriors."
Before Rhaenyra could process this, Kinvara had wrapped her hand around Rhaenyra's cock again, her touch scorching in the best possible way. With her other hand, she traced patterns on Rhaenyra's stomach and chest—patterns that seemed to send rivers of fire through her veins, heightening every sensation.
"What are you doing to me?" Rhaenyra gasped as pleasure unlike anything she had experienced before flooded her system. Every nerve ending felt exposed, hypersensitive to Kinvara's lightest touch.
"Awakening the dragon," Kinvara replied, her voice taking on that resonant quality it had when she spoke of prophecies. She leaned down, her lips brushing Rhaenyra's ear as her hand continued its maddening strokes. "Ōregon ānogar maghagon ōregon bē."
The High Valyrian flowed over Rhaenyra like hot honey, familiar yet strange in Kinvara's accent. "Your blood brings your destiny," Rhaenyra translated mentally, even as her body writhed under the priestess's expert touch.
"Zȳhon udra pōjo zȳhon dāria," Kinvara continued, her breath hot against Rhaenyra's ear as her hand moved faster. "Her wings make her queen."
Rhaenyra's hips thrust upward of their own accord, seeking more of that exquisite friction. She was close again, impossibly close considering she had climaxed so recently. What was this woman doing to her? How had she turned the tables so completely?
"Kinvara," Rhaenyra gasped, no longer caring about the admission of weakness in saying the priestess's name. "I'm going to—"
"Kesīr," Kinvara whispered, the Valyrian for "Now." Her thumb pressed against a spot just beneath the head of Rhaenyra's cock at the same moment her teeth grazed the princess's earlobe.
The combination sent Rhaenyra over the edge. Her back arched off the bed as pleasure exploded through her, her cock pulsing powerfully in Kinvara's grip. Her release wasn't as voluminous as before but felt even more intense, each spurt accompanied by a full-body shudder that left her gasping.
"Kinvara," she moaned, the name torn from her throat as the priestess continued to milk her through the climax, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure.
Only when Rhaenyra collapsed back onto the furs, utterly spent, did Kinvara release her. The priestess sat back, admiring her handiwork with evident satisfaction—Rhaenyra sprawled beneath her, chest heaving, skin flushed, seed pooled on her stomach.
"Beautiful," Kinvara murmured, trailing a finger through the pearly liquid on Rhaenyra's abdomen. "The essence of the dragon."
Rhaenyra stared up at her, dazed and disoriented. No lover had ever managed to wrest control from her so completely, had ever made her body respond with such mindless abandon. Not Laena with her eager enthusiasm, not Alicent with her clever hands, not even Mysaria.
"How?" she managed to ask, her voice rough. "How did you do that?"
Kinvara's smile was both triumphant and secretive. "The art of pleasure is sacred to followers of R'hllor. We study it as maesters study their chains, as warriors study swordplay." She traced another pattern on Rhaenyra's skin, making her twitch with oversensitivity. "And I have had many years to perfect my... techniques."
Looking up at Kinvara—poised and composed despite her dishevelment, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and something deeper, more mysterious—Rhaenyra realized she had vastly underestimated the priestess. This was no ordinary woman seeking favor with honeyed words and skilled touches. This was someone who wielded pleasure as a weapon, as deftly as Daemon wielded Dark Sister.
And despite herself, despite her pride and her determination to maintain control, Rhaenyra found herself eager to experience more of what Kinvara could do to her.
Gods help me, she thought. I think I'm in trouble.
"You recover quickly," Kinvara observed, trailing her scorching fingertips across Rhaenyra's stomach. "The blood of Old Valyria runs strong in you."
"Don't sound so pleased with yourself," Rhaenyra muttered, attempting to prop herself up on her elbows. "I'm not finished with you yet."
Kinvara's laugh was musical, rich with amusement. "No, zaldrīzes. You are not." Her eyes, reflecting the candlelight, seemed to burn with inner fire. "But perhaps it is I who am not finished with you."
Before Rhaenyra could respond, Kinvara moved, shifting her position until she straddled Rhaenyra's chest. The priestess's knees pressed into the furs on either side of Rhaenyra's ribcage, her thighs—strong and supple—framing Rhaenyra's view. From this angle, Kinvara seemed even taller, towering over Rhaenyra like some ancient goddess of fire.
"What are you—" Rhaenyra began, but the words died in her throat as Kinvara moved forward, her knees now positioned on either side of Rhaenyra's head.
"The Lord of Light teaches that pleasure is sacred when freely given," Kinvara said, looking down the length of her body at Rhaenyra. Her massive breasts hung like ripe fruit, their weight defying nature in how perfectly they maintained their shape. "And now, Princess, you will worship at the temple of fire."
Rhaenyra's pride flared at the commanding tone. "You presume much, priestess," she growled, though her eyes betrayed her by fixating on the glistening folds now positioned above her face.
"I presume nothing," Kinvara replied, lowering herself slightly so that her sex hovered a mere inch from Rhaenyra's lips. The scent was intoxicating—spicy and sweet, like some exotic incense. "I merely recognize hunger when I see it."
She was right, damn her. Despite having climaxed twice already, despite her indignation at Kinvara's dominance, Rhaenyra's mouth watered at the sight before her. Kinvara's sex was exquisite—plump, glistening folds framing an entrance that radiated heat Rhaenyra could feel on her face even without direct contact.
I could refuse, Rhaenyra thought. I could push her off me, assert my dominance.
But even as the thought formed, her hands moved to Kinvara's thighs, feeling the firm muscle beneath impossibly soft skin.
"That's it," Kinvara encouraged, her voice dropping to a hypnotic register. "Take what you desire, Princess."
Rhaenyra didn't need further invitation. She pulled Kinvara down the final inch, her tongue extending to taste the priestess's essence. The flavor that flooded her mouth was even more intense than before—like drinking liquid fire, sweet and spicy and utterly addictive.
"Mmmmm," Rhaenyra moaned against Kinvara's flesh before she could stop herself. She lapped eagerly, her tongue exploring every fold, every crease of the priestess's sex.
"Yes," Kinvara sighed, one hand coming down to tangle in Rhaenyra's silver-blonde hair. "Just like that."
The grip was firm but not painful, guiding rather than forcing. Rhaenyra found herself following Kinvara's lead without resistance, her tongue moving where the priestess directed.
"Slower here," Kinvara instructed, guiding Rhaenyra's attention to her clit. "Circle it... yes, that's it."
A strange warmth spread through Rhaenyra's chest at the approval in Kinvara's voice. She should have been outraged at being instructed like some untried maiden, but instead, she found herself eager to please, to earn more of that warm praise.
"You have a talented tongue, Princess," Kinvara murmured, her hips beginning a subtle, rolling motion against Rhaenyra's mouth. "But let me teach you how to use it better still."
Her guidance was precise—when to use the flat of the tongue, when to focus the tip, when to suck gently and when to apply firmer pressure. Under her instruction, Rhaenyra found herself performing better than she ever had before, drawing responses from Kinvara that grew increasingly less controlled.
"Yes, just there," Kinvara breathed, her thighs trembling slightly on either side of Rhaenyra's head. "Now faster... firmer..."
Rhaenyra obeyed, her own arousal building again as she felt Kinvara's composure beginning to crack. The priestess's breathing quickened, her internal muscles fluttering against Rhaenyra's probing tongue.
Rhaenyra's hands moved to cup Kinvara's ass, kneading the firm flesh as she redoubled her efforts. The position left her feeling strangely vulnerable—pinned beneath Kinvara's body, following her commands—yet also powerful as she felt the priestess's control slipping with each expert flick of her tongue.
"Look at me," Kinvara commanded suddenly, her voice huskier than before.
Rhaenyra obeyed without thinking, looking up past the flat plane of Kinvara's stomach, past those magnificent breasts, to meet the priestess's gaze. What she saw there made her breath catch—Kinvara's eyes were glowing. Not reflecting the candlelight, but actually emitting a soft red glow of their own.
"Do not stop," Kinvara said, holding Rhaenyra's gaze with those uncanny eyes. "Watch me as I reach the flames."
Rhaenyra couldn't have looked away if she wanted to. She continued her ministrations, her tongue working tirelessly as she watched Kinvara's face transform with approaching climax. The priestess's lips parted, her breath coming in shorter gasps, the glow in her eyes intensifying.
"Your pleasure feeds the fire," Kinvara gasped, her accent thickening with arousal. "Your worship strengthens the Lord of Light."
Rhaenyra should have been insulted by the implication that she was worshipping Kinvara's god rather than pleasing the woman herself. But in that moment, with Kinvara's thighs trembling against her cheeks and the taste of the priestess's arousal coating her tongue, she couldn't bring herself to care.
Kinvara's rolling hips became more insistent, her hand tightening in Rhaenyra's hair as she ground down more firmly. "Yes," she hissed, her eyes blazing brighter. "Yes, zaldrīzes, just like that."
Rhaenyra felt a swell of pride as Kinvara's composure finally, truly began to crack. The priestess's other hand came up to squeeze one of her own breasts, pinching the nipple hard as her hips moved with increasing urgency.
"Princess," Kinvara moaned, the first time she had used the title with genuine breathlessness. "Your tongue..."
Rhaenyra doubled her efforts, sucking Kinvara's clit between her lips while her tongue flicked rapidly against the sensitive bud. She watched, fascinated, as Kinvara's head fell back, exposing the long column of her throat where the ruby choker gleamed with its own internal light.
"By R'hllor's flame," Kinvara cried out, her body going rigid. Her thighs clamped around Rhaenyra's head as she shuddered violently, her release flooding Rhaenyra's mouth with an essence that burned like sweet fire.
The glow in Kinvara's eyes flared brilliantly, and for an instant, Rhaenyra swore she saw actual flames dancing in the priestess's pupils. The candles around the room flared in unison, their flames shooting upward before settling back to their normal height.
Rhaenyra continued lapping gently, coaxing Kinvara through her climax until the priestess's trembling subsided. Only then did she pull back slightly, a smug smile spreading across her face despite her submissive position.
"It seems even priestesses can lose control," Rhaenyra remarked, licking her lips to savor the last traces of Kinvara's taste.
Kinvara looked down at her, the glow in her eyes fading but not entirely disappearing. Her smile held none of the embarrassment or vulnerability Rhaenyra might have expected after such an explosive release.
"Control takes many forms, Princess," Kinvara replied, her voice already regaining its composure. "Sometimes it is in restraint, and sometimes..." She moved with startling swiftness, sliding down Rhaenyra's body until her face hovered above Rhaenyra's still-hard cock. "...it is in knowing exactly when to let go."
Before Rhaenyra could process the meaning behind those words, Kinvara's mouth descended on her. The heat was shocking—like plunging into scalding water that somehow didn't burn. Rhaenyra's back arched off the bed, a cry tearing from her throat as Kinvara took her entire length in one fluid movement.
"Seven fucking hells!" Rhaenyra shouted, her hands fisting in the furs beneath her. The sensation was overwhelming—Kinvara's mouth was impossibly hot, her throat constricting around Rhaenyra's cock with perfect pressure.
Kinvara hummed in response, the vibration sending shivers up Rhaenyra's spine.
Despite having climaxed twice already, Rhaenyra felt her release building with alarming speed. There was something unnatural about the heat of Kinvara's mouth, about the way her tongue seemed to find every sensitive spot simultaneously.
"Wait," Rhaenyra gasped, trying to stave off the inevitable. "I'm going to—it's too soon—"
Kinvara ignored her, if anything increasing her pace. She looked up the length of Rhaenyra's body, holding her gaze with those faintly glowing eyes as she worked. The sight was obscenely erotic—the beautiful priestess, her face flushed from her own recent pleasure, lips stretched around Rhaenyra's considerable girth, eyes burning with purpose.
It was too much. Barely eight seconds after Kinvara had engulfed her, Rhaenyra felt herself hurtling toward release. "Kinvara!" she cried out, unable to hold back any longer. "I'm cumming!"
Her hips bucked upward involuntarily as pleasure exploded through her. Her cock pulsed powerfully, flooding Kinvara's mouth with rope after rope of thick seed. The volume was shocking given her previous releases—enough to make any normal person choke or pull away.
But Kinvara was clearly not normal. She swallowed every drop without hesitation, her throat working rhythmically, her eyes never leaving Rhaenyra's face. There was something almost reverent in the way she consumed Rhaenyra's essence, as though it were sacred wine rather than seed.
When the last pulse had subsided, Kinvara finally released her with a wet sound, licking her lips with evident satisfaction. "Delicious," she pronounced, her voice deeper than before. "Your essence is powerful, zaldrīzes. It feeds the fire within me."
Rhaenyra lay panting, her mind struggling to comprehend how Kinvara had brought her to such a swift, powerful release. "What are you?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"I am a servant of the Lord of Light," Kinvara replied, moving up Rhaenyra's body with sinuous grace. "And tonight, I am your guide to pleasures you have never imagined."
The world had narrowed to sensation alone. Rhaenyra floated in a haze of pleasure, her body humming with aftershocks from multiple releases yet still hungry for more. The candles around the room had burned lower, casting longer shadows across the walls of her chamber, but the heat remained oppressive—partly from the flames, partly from Kinvara's supernatural warmth, and partly from the fire that seemed to burn within Rhaenyra's own veins.
She lay sprawled on her back, silver-blonde hair fanned out across the dark furs, skin flushed and glistening with sweat. Her limbs felt both leaden and weightless, as though she were floating in a hot spring. Despite having climaxed four times already, her cock remained impressively hard, jutting upward from her body like a pale spear.
"How?" she murmured, gazing down at herself in wonder. "I should be spent."
Kinvara, kneeling beside her on the bed, traced a finger along the length of Rhaenyra's shaft, making it twitch eagerly. "The fire of R'hllor sustains those who welcome it," she said, her voice a rich purr. "And you, zaldrīzes, have welcomed it indeed."
The crimson light from Kinvara's ruby choker cast strange patterns across her copper skin, making the tattoos that adorned her ribs and back seem to writhe like living flames. Her hair, now disheveled from their exertions, fell in dark waves around her shoulders, framing breasts.
Kinvara moved to straddle Rhaenyra's hips. Her thighs, strong and supple, pressed against Rhaenyra's sides as she positioned herself above Rhaenyra's cock without quite making contact.
"Look at me," Kinvara commanded, her eyes glowing with that unnatural inner light. "I want to see your face as I take you inside me."
Rhaenyra could no more have disobeyed than she could have extinguished the sun. Her eyes locked with Kinvara's as the priestess lowered herself slowly, the slick heat of her entrance brushing against the sensitive head of Rhaenyra's cock.
"By the Seven," Rhaenyra gasped as Kinvara's scorching heat enveloped her, inch by exquisite inch. It was like being immersed in liquid fire that somehow brought pleasure rather than pain, so intense it bordered on unbearable.
Kinvara took her time, her inner muscles clenching and releasing with deliberate control as she descended. By the time she had taken Rhaenyra's full length, they were both breathing hard—Rhaenyra from the overwhelming sensation, Kinvara from the stretch of accommodating Rhaenyra's considerable girth.
"So full," Kinvara murmured, her accent thicker now, rolling her hips experimentally. "You fill me perfectly, zaldrīzes."
The small movement sent lightning up Rhaenyra's spine. She had been inside many women before, but none had felt like this—none had gripped her so perfectly, none had radiated such scorching heat that seemed to seep into her very bones.
"Kinvara," she moaned, her hands moving to the priestess's hips. "You're so hot inside... it's like—like fucking dragonfire."
A smile curved Kinvara's full lips. "Fire made flesh," she said, placing her own hands over Rhaenyra's on her hips. "That is what we both are."
She began to move then, rising until only the head of Rhaenyra's cock remained inside her before sinking back down in one fluid motion. The pace she set was deliberate, almost ceremonial—neither rushed nor teasing, but purposeful in a way that made Rhaenyra think of rituals and worship.
Each downstroke brought a moan from Rhaenyra's lips. The heat, the pressure, the sight of Kinvara moving above her like some primal goddess—it was overwhelming in its totality. Already she could feel another climax building, impossibly soon after her last release.
"I—I can't hold on," she gasped, her fingers digging into Kinvara's hips. "You're going to make me—"
"Then don't hold on," Kinvara interrupted, her voice both commanding and soothing. "Give yourself to the fire, zaldrīzes. Let it consume you."
As she spoke, she clenched her internal muscles in a rippling motion that sent Rhaenyra hurtling over the edge with shocking suddenness. Her back arched off the bed as pleasure exploded through her like wildfire, her cock pulsing powerfully inside Kinvara's scorching heat.
"KINVARA!" she cried out, her voice cracking as she filled the priestess with her seed. The release was so powerful it bordered on painful, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her until she thought she might shatter from the intensity.
Kinvara didn't pause, didn't even slow her movements. If anything, she increased her pace, riding Rhaenyra through her climax and beyond. "Yes," she hissed, her eyes flaring brighter. "Feed my fire with your essence."
Rhaenyra collapsed back onto the furs, chest heaving, mind reeling from the force of her release. Impossibly, despite having just climaxed, she remained hard inside Kinvara—her cock refusing to soften, still throbbing with need.
"What... what have you done to me?" she gasped, as pleasure continued to pulse through her oversensitive body.
"I have awakened the true dragon," Kinvara replied, leaning forward until her magnificent breasts hung tantalizingly close to Rhaenyra's face. "Taste me again, Princess. Take what you desire."
Rhaenyra needed no further encouragement. She raised her head, capturing one dusky nipple between her lips. She sucked eagerly, her tongue circling the stiffened peak as Kinvara continued to move atop her.
"Yes," Kinvara sighed, one hand coming up to tangle in Rhaenyra's silver-blonde hair, holding her against her breast.
Rhaenyra moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while her hands slid around to grasp Kinvara's ass, kneading the firm flesh as the priestess rode her. The position emphasized their height difference—Rhaenyra having to stretch up to reach Kinvara's breasts, the priestess towering over her even while seated.
Far from finding it intimidating, Rhaenyra now found the disparity intoxicating. There was something thrilling about surrendering to this tall, powerful woman whose body seemed designed specifically to drive her mad with pleasure.
Kinvara straightened, changing the angle of her movements to take Rhaenyra even deeper. Her pace increased, the ceremonial quality giving way to something more urgent. Her breasts bounced hypnotically with each movement, her head falling back to expose the long column of her throat where the ruby choker pulsed with inner light.
She placed her palm flat against Rhaenyra's chest, directly over her heart. Heat spread from the point of contact, radiating outward until Rhaenyra's entire body felt aflame. The sensation was beyond physical pleasure—it was transcendent, as though some new awareness was being awakened within her.
"Kinvara," Rhaenyra moaned, the name no longer an admission of weakness but a prayer, a recognition of power. "Kinvara, Kinvara, Kinvara!"
The chant seemed to please the priestess. Her movements became more frenzied, her breathing more ragged. The glow in her eyes intensified.
The desperation in her voice seemed to be what Kinvara had been waiting for. The priestess let out a cry that was half laugh, half moan as her body began to tremble. Her inner muscles clamped down on Rhaenyra with shocking strength, rippling and pulsing as her climax overtook her.
The candles around the room flared impossibly high, their flames almost touching the ceiling. Kinvara's ruby choker glowed so brightly it seemed to be melting into her skin. And in that moment, as their gazes locked, Rhaenyra swore she could see visions in the priestess's eyes—herself seated on the Iron Throne, dragons soaring over unfamiliar cities, seven crowns laid at her feet.
The visions, combined with the pulsing grip of Kinvara's climaxing body, drove Rhaenyra to her own final release.
"KINVARA!" she screamed as the dam broke, her entire body convulsing as pleasure more intense than anything she had ever known crashed through her. Her cock pulsed with almost painful force, pumping rope after rope of thick seed into Kinvara's welcoming heat.
The volume was shocking, especially after so many previous releases—enough to fill a small bottle, spilling out around their joined bodies despite Kinvara's tight grip. It seemed endless, each pulse accompanied by another wave of pleasure that left Rhaenyra gasping and trembling beneath the priestess.
Only when the last shudder had passed did Kinvara collapse atop her, their sweat-slicked bodies pressing together as they both fought to regain their breath. Rhaenyra's cock finally began to soften, still buried inside Kinvara's warmth but utterly spent.
"By all the gods," Rhaenyra whispered when she could speak again, her voice rough from screaming. "What was that?"
Kinvara raised her head, those glowing eyes now dimmed to a more natural hue. Her smile was satisfied yet somehow tender. "That, Princess Rhaenyra, was the joining of fire and blood—the awakening of your true potential."
She shifted, carefully lifting herself off Rhaenyra's softened length. Their combined essence flowed out of her, pearly white tinged with traces of red. Kinvara didn't seem bothered by the mess, merely settling herself alongside Rhaenyra.
"I feel... different," Rhaenyra admitted, her body utterly exhausted yet somehow energized at the same time. It was as though something had been awakened within her that couldn't be put back to sleep.
"You are different," Kinvara confirmed, tracing patterns on Rhaenyra's chest that left trails of pleasant warmth. "The fire of R'hllor has touched you now, has merged with your dragon blood. The visions you saw—they are but a taste of what awaits you."
Rhaenyra turned to look at her, searching the priestess's face for deception but finding only serene certainty. "Those cities... the crowns... is that truly my destiny?"
"It can be," Kinvara replied, her fingers moving to trace the line of Rhaenyra's jaw. "If you are bold enough to claim it. The Stepstones are merely the beginning—a testing ground for what will come."
Despite her exhaustion, Rhaenyra felt a thrill at the words. "And you, priestess? What role do you play in this destiny of mine?"
Kinvara's smile was enigmatic, her eyes reflecting the dying candlelight. "I am your guide to the fire, zaldrīzes. Your priestess, your advisor—and now, your lover."
She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Rhaenyra's lips that held none of the desperate hunger of their earlier embraces but it was quite gentle.
"Together," Kinvara whispered against Rhaenyra's mouth, "we shall set the world aflame."
If you want to Read 10 More Chapters Right Now. Search 'patreon.com/AMagicWriter40' on Websearch