Chapter 2: Wings of Sin
The moon hung low over King's Landing like a bloodied coin, casting long shadows across the Red Keep's outer walls. You clutched the small scroll tight against your chest — coded words for Rhaenyra's men waiting beyond the city gates. One more message. One more betrayal. Then maybe you could disappear before the prince's obsession swallowed you whole.
You slipped through the servant's passage, heart pounding louder than your footsteps. The night air was cold, but your skin still burned from last night's marks — fingerprints on your hips, bite marks on your throat hidden beneath a high collar.
You didn't make it ten paces past the gate.
A gloved hand slammed over your mouth. Another arm banded around your waist like iron, yanking you back against a hard chest.
"Going somewhere, little traitor?" Aemond's voice was a low, dangerous purr against your ear. His breath hot. His body radiating fury and something far darker.
You tried to twist free. He only tightened his grip, spinning you around and pinning you against the cold stone wall. His one violet eye glowed in the moonlight, the sapphire in the other socket catching the faint torchlight like a predator's gaze.
"I told you," he whispered, thumb pressing hard against your lower lip, "you don't leave my bed until I say so."
Before you could answer, his mouth crashed down on yours — punishing, claiming, devouring. He tasted like rage and wine. His hand slid under your cloak, fingers digging into your thigh as he hiked your leg around his hip.
"Not here," you gasped between kisses. "Someone will see—"
"Let them." He bit your neck, hard enough to make you whimper. "Let the whole fucking city know who you belong to."
But instead of dragging you back to his chambers, he lifted you clean off the ground. You yelped as he carried you like you weighed nothing, striding toward the Dragonpit with long, furious steps. Your scroll fell forgotten into the mud.
"Aemond—wait—"
"Quiet." His voice left no room for argument. "You wanted danger tonight? You'll get it."
The Dragonpit loomed ahead, massive and ancient. Vhagar's low rumble shook the ground as Aemond pushed open the side gate only the dragonlords used. The she-dragon's enormous form filled the cavern, scales the color of old bronze and smoke, eyes half-lidded but alert.
Aemond didn't hesitate. He climbed the rope ladder with you still in his arms, settling you in front of him on the massive saddle. Vhagar shifted, a deep growl vibrating through her body.
"Rīza, Vhagar," he commanded in Valyrian, voice rough. *Fly.*
The dragon launched.
Wind screamed past your ears as Vhagar's wings beat once, twice, then they were soaring high above King's Landing. The city lights blurred into a sea of fireflies far below. Cold air whipped your hair, your cloak billowing wildly. Your stomach dropped with the height, terror and thrill mixing in your veins.
Aemond's chest pressed flush to your back. One arm locked around your waist like a vice. The other hand was already shoving your skirts up, fingers finding you bare and — gods help you — already wet.
"Still dripping for me even while you try to run," he growled against your ear, voice barely audible over the wind. Two fingers pushed inside you without warning. You cried out, the sound lost in the clouds. "This cunt knows its master."
He curled his fingers deep, thumb grinding against your clit as Vhagar banked sharply to the left. The sudden tilt made you clench around him. Pleasure spiked hard and fast.
"Aemond—fuck—please—"
"Please what?" He added a third finger, stretching you open while the dragon climbed higher. "Please stop? Or please fuck you while the whole realm sleeps below us?"
You couldn't answer. Your head fell back against his shoulder as he finger-fucked you mercilessly, wind tearing at your clothes, the dragon's heat warming your skin. The first orgasm hit you like lightning — sudden, violent, your scream swallowed by the night sky.
He didn't stop.
Before you could catch your breath, you heard the rustle of leather and laces. His cock — thick, hot, already leaking — dragged along your soaked folds from behind.
"Hold on tight, little spy," he snarled.
He thrust up into you in one brutal stroke.
The stretch burned so perfectly you saw stars. Vhagar roared beneath you as if she felt it too. Aemond fucked you deep and hard, hips snapping up with every powerful beat of the dragon's wings. Each thrust drove him impossibly deeper, the angle wicked because of how you were seated in front of him.
"Mine," he growled, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make your vision spark. "Say it while I ruin this pretty cunt in the sky."
"I'm—fuck—I'm yours!" you sobbed, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaking back across your temples from the wind.
He pounded into you faster, the wet slap of skin somehow louder than the roaring wind. His other hand found your clit again, rubbing tight, merciless circles.
"Come again," he ordered, voice dark and ragged. "Come on my cock while Vhagar flies us over the city you wanted to betray."
You shattered harder this time, walls clamping down around him like a vice. Your whole body shook, thighs trembling, a broken scream tearing from your throat as pure white pleasure flooded every nerve.
Aemond groaned loud enough to rival the dragon. His pace turned savage — short, punishing thrusts that had you seeing stars again. He buried his face in your neck, biting down hard as he came deep inside you, hot pulses of his release filling you until it dripped down your thighs even in the freezing wind.
For a long moment there was only the sound of wind, dragon wings, and both of you gasping for air.
Then he pulled out slowly, tucking himself away before wrapping both arms around you, almost tenderly. His lips brushed your ear.
"Next time you try to run," he whispered, voice rough with satisfaction and warning, "I won't stop at the sky. I'll fuck you right in the middle of the Small Council while they watch."
You shivered, still full of his cum, still flying thousands of feet above the ground in his arms.
But as Vhagar began her descent back toward the Dragonpit, a cold dread settled in your stomach. Far below, you caught the glint of a single lantern moving near the city gates — the exact spot where your contact had been waiting.
Someone had seen the dragon rise.
And they were already running toward the Red Keep with news.
Aemond's arms tightened around you like he already knew.
"Sleep well tonight, little traitor," he murmured, pressing a deceptively soft kiss to your temple. "Because tomorrow… the real game begins."
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