Sylus found her on the balcony.
Scarlett was curled up on the bench, knees drawn to her chest, her red dress pooled around her like spilled wine. Her eyes were half-closed, head resting against the cold stone wall. She looked small. Fragile. Like a doll someone had carefully arranged and forgotten.
But he knew better. Knew that beneath that delicate exterior was a fierce spirit. A woman who'd challenged death itself rather than accept captivity. A dragon in her own right, even if she didn't fully remember yet.
Guilt twisted in his chest like a knife.
The party had ended twenty minutes ago. Guests filing out with thanks and well-wishes, the elegant women finally dispersing after he'd made it very clear—coldly, firmly—that he had no interest in their attention.
He'd been searching for Scarlett ever since, panic building with each empty room.
And here she was. Alone on a balcony at her own birthday party.
Because he'd been too slow to extract himself. Too caught up in being polite to notice she'd disappeared.
Sylus knelt in front of her, his formal suit creasing as his knees hit the cold stone. At this angle, they were almost eye level.
Almost.
She was so small.
So perfect.
So his.
"Kitten?" he said softly. "The party's over. Let's go home."
Scarlett's eyes opened slowly, unfocused. "Already?"
"Already." He scooped her up effortlessly, one arm under her knees, one supporting her back. She made a small sound of surprise but didn't protest, just let her head fall against his shoulder.
The drive back to the mansion was quiet.
His men trailed behind in their vehicles, maintaining their usual formation. But inside Sylus's car, there was only silence and the sound of Scarlett's breathing, slow and even against his chest.
He carried her inside, up the stairs, straight to her bedroom—the one she still kept separate from his, even though she spent most nights falling asleep in his anyway. Set her down gently on the bed, careful not to wrinkle her beautiful dress more than necessary.
"Sleep well, kitten," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Happy birthday."
He turned to leave, to give her the space she clearly needed—
Her hand caught his wrist.
Sylus looked back and felt his heart crack.
She was crying. Silent tears streaming down her face, her makeup smudged, her eyes red and devastated.He was on his knees beside the bed immediately. "What's wrong? Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll fix it."
"I was jealous," she whispered, voice broken. "Those women. They were so tall. So elegant. So perfect. And they were touching you and calling you darling and standing so close and I just—" A sob cut her off. "I felt so small. So inadequate. Like I didn't belong there. Like I don't belong with you."
"No." The word came out fierce. Absolute. Sylus cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. "No, Scarlett. You belong with me more than anyone in any world, any lifetime, any reality. Those women—" His jaw clenched. "They mean nothing. Less than nothing."
"But they were so—"
"I don't care if they're tall or elegant or perfect or anything else." His thumbs brushed away her tears. "I've waited centuries for you. Not them. You. This face. This spirit. This chaotic, stubborn, beautiful soul that fits perfectly with mine."
His voice dropped lower, more intense.
"Do you really think someone with long legs could take me away from the person I've loved across lifetimes? The person I've died for? The person I'd burn the world for?"
"I know, I just—" Scarlett hiccupped. "I know you love me. But seeing them, being around them, I felt like maybe I wasn't enough. Like maybe—"
"Stop." Sylus kissed her forehead. Her nose. Her tear-stained cheeks. "You are enough. You are everything. You are the only thing that matters."
"Prove it," Scarlett whispered.
Sylus went very still. "What?"
"Prove it." Her hands came up to his chest, fingers playing with his collar. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but there was something else there now. Something that made his breath catch.
"Prove that I'm enough. That you choose me. That those women mean nothing compared to me."
"Scarlett." His voice came out rough. Warning. "You're emotional. Overwhelmed. You don't mean—
" I mean it." Her hands traced lower, exploring the planes of his chest through his shirt. She was blushing now, tears drying on her cheeks, replaced by something like determination.
"I want you. I've wanted you for weeks but I was too scared to say it. Too afraid it would be like before, when you forced—but this is different. I'm choosing this. Choosing you."
"Are you sure?" His hands covered hers, stilling their downward movement before they could venture too far and completely destroy his already fraying control.
"This is a big step. Your first time. It should be special. Not because you're jealous or insecure or trying to prove something."
"I'm sure." Scarlett looked up at him, and despite the tear tracks on her face, her eyes were clear. Certain. "I want this. Want you. Want us to finally be together the way we're meant to be. No force. No fear. Just... us. Choosing each other."
Something in Sylus's expression shifted.
The careful control cracked, revealing the predator beneath. That ancient, powerful dragon who'd been holding himself back for so long. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating. A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"Bold," he murmured, voice dropping an octave. "My bold, brave kitten, finally inviting the dragon in."
She shivered at his tone. At the promise in his eyes. She should be scared—knew exactly what she was inviting, knew that dragons were intense and possessive and overwhelming in every way.
But she wasn't scared.
She was ready.
Her hands resumed their exploration, tracing lower to his abs, feeling the muscle flex under her touch. Even lower, daring, bold—
Sylus caught her wrist. "Careful, sweetie. You're playing with fire."
"Maybe I want to burn."
He made a sound low in his throat—half growl, half groan. "You're going to kill me.
"Good" Scarlett whispered, pulling him closer. "Die happy."
Sylus kissed her, Deep and desperate and hungry in a way he'd never allowed himself before. She gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his hands coming up to cradle her face like she was the most precious thing in existence.
Because she was.
His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, trailing kisses along the path to her neck. Found the fang marks he'd left there—his claim, his bond—and kissed them reverently. Then lower, to her collarbone. To her exposed shoulder where the dress had slipped.
Each kiss earned him a breathy whimper that sent fire through his veins.
"Do you know what you're asking for?" he murmured against her skin. "Dragons are... intense. Possessive. It might overwhelm you".
"I know." Scarlett's fingers threaded through his silver hair. "I trust you."
Those three words nearly broke him.
Trust. After everything—after the forced marriage and the cage and the gunshot and the suicide attempt—she trusted him.
"I'll be gentle," he promised, pulling back to look at her. "As gentle as I can be. But Scarlett, if at any point you need me to stop—"
"I know. I'll tell you." She pulled him down for another kiss. "But I won't need you to stop. I want this. I want you. All of you."
What followed was slow. Careful. Overwhelming in the best way.
Sylus took his time, worshipping every inch of her like she was sacred. Removing the red dress with reverent hands. Kissing every revealed bit of skin. Murmuring promises and praise in a mixture of languages—some she understood, some that sounded ancient and draconic.
"Beautiful. Perfect. Mine."
He prepared her with patience that must have cost him dearly, his control stretched thin but never breaking. Making sure she was ready. That she wanted this. That every touch brought pleasure instead of fear.
When the moment finally came—when they were finally about to be joined completely—Scarlett tensed slightly.
"This will hurt," Sylus warned, his forehead pressed against hers. "Just for a moment. But I promise, I'll make it good. I'll take care of you."
"I know." She cupped his face, looking into his red eyes that had become her home. "I trust you."
He kissed her as he entered her slowly, carefully, swallowing her gasp of pain. She clutched at his shoulders, tears pricking her eyes—not from fear or regret, but from the overwhelming sensation of being filled, claimed, completed.
"Breathe, kitten," he murmured against her lips. "Just breathe. I've got you."
She did. Focused on breathing, on relaxing, on adjusting to the intrusion that was both too much and somehow exactly right.
"Should I stop?" Sylus asked, voice strained. He was trembling with the effort of staying still, of not moving until she was ready.
"Tell me if you need me to stop."
"Don't." Scarlett's legs wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. "Don't stop. Please. I want all of you."
"You'll be the death of me," he groaned, but he complied. Moved slowly, carefully, gauging her reactions. Learning what made her gasp in pleasure versus pain. Finding a rhythm that worked for both of them.
It was overwhelming. Intense. Everything she'd imagined and nothing like it at the same time.
He was big. Tall. Powerful. Everything those women had whispered about dragons being hard to handle was true. But he was also gentle. Patient. Attentive to every sound she made, every shift of her body. Making sure that even through the initial pain, there was pleasure. Connection. Love.
"I love you," he whispered against her neck.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
"I love you too," Scarlett gasped out, her fingers digging into his back. "Sylus, I—"
Whatever she was going to say dissolved into a moan as he hit a spot inside her that sent sparks through her entire body. He smiled against her skin—predatory and satisfied—and did it again.
And again.
Until she was crying out, not from pain but from pleasure so intense it almost scared her. Until the world narrowed to just him, just them, just this perfect moment of finally being together without fear or force or anything except choice and love and trust.
When it was over—when they'd both found their release, bodies tangled together, breathing hard—Sylus pulled her close. Arranged them so she was tucked against his chest, his arms protective bands around her.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, pressing kisses to her hair. "Did I hurt you? Was it—"
"It was perfect." Scarlett's voice was hoarse, exhausted, blissfully satisfied. "You were perfect. We were perfect."
He felt him relax against her. "I waited so long for this. For you. To finally be together without any barriers between us."
"Me too." She yawned, snuggling closer. "Even if I didn't remember waiting a thousand years."
"Your soul remembered." His hand traced patterns on her back. Soothing. Gentle.
"The mate bond is complete now. You'll start to feel it more strongly. The connection between us."
"I already feel it." Scarlett pressed her hand over his heart, feeling it beat in time with hers. "I think I've felt it for a while. I just didn't know what it was."
They lay in comfortable silence for several minutes. Then Scarlett giggled.
"What?" Sylus asked, amused.
"The women at the party. If they could see us now—"
"They'd know exactly who you belong to." His voice went possessive. "Who I belong to. That no amount of elegance or height or perfection could ever compare to you."
"I'm sorry I got jealous."
"Don't be. I'd be jealous too if men were touching you like that." His arms tightened slightly.
"Actually, I'd probably kill them. So you handled it much better than I would have."
Scarlett laughed. "My murderous dragon."
"Your dragon," he corrected. "Only yours. Forever."
"Forever," she agreed, her eyes already closing. "That's a long time."
"Not long enough." He kissed her one more time, soft and sweet. "Sleep, kitten. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Promise?"
"I promise. I'll always be here. Across lifetimes, across centuries, across forever. I'll always be here."
Scarlett smiled and let sleep take her, safe in the arms of the dragon who'd waited a thousand years for this moment.
For her.
For them.
Finally, completely, perfectly together.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.