Burn Bright and Flicker out Chapters 3 and 4

Chapter 3

The sound was deafening. A persistent rumbling accompanied by the rhythmic thump of heavy footfalls, echoing from a long hallway at the far end of the room. A faint glow emanated from within those cavernous stone walls, one which grew all the brighter with every passing moment. Lucene scrambled for cover, diving behind an ornate marble pillar, and pried a torch from the wall. As far as makeshift weapons went, this one was absolutely pathetic, but what was she to do, face the dragon unarmed? Peering from her hiding place, Lucene could just barely make out the far wall of hallway from which her foe now approached. Suddenly, a harrowing shadow came into view, cast long and threatening against the far wall.

Long jagged horns crowned a gaping reptilian maw lined with dagger-pointed teeth. Even in shadow, Lucene could make out the terrible strength of the beasts hulking form and powerful muscles. Each thunderous step brought taloned feet large enough to clutch a full-grown person with ease ever closer. Great wings, which, even folded, single handedly accounted for just how cavernous the rooms of this underground palace needed to be built, loomed even larger in the distortions of shadow.  The sight alone made Lucene’s knees wobble and heart pound, sweat pooled at her brow as her body locked up. She had so little time; each earth-shattering step brought doom ever nearer.

Her knuckles whitened, splinters dug into her palm as she tightened her grip on her torch. It was so hard to breath. This was futile, pointless, her mind screamed at her louder and louder how useless it would be to fight. But what was she to do? Give up? Give in and let herself perish in the jaws of some horrible monstrosity? Perhaps Tyrannaxxia would show her mercy if she surrendered? She had clearly shown mercy to the women she now kept locked away in this palace of hers, but was that any way to live? At the beck and call of an evil monster? And what of Princess Izelle? Still, Lucene could hardly save Izelle while dead.

A sudden silence fell over the room. The shadow did not dissipate, or halt, but the deafening rumble had ceased. All Lucene could hear was the pounding of her heart as she watched death draw ever closer. Her eyes locked on that head, the jaws, the teeth, the gaping maw. To fight that, unarmed as she was, was to face certain doom. Where had her resolve gone? Lady Lucene had been so ready for death, yet now, Lucene stood trembling in place at the mere shadow of the thing approaching her, unable to tear her eyes away. The sound of wood clattering to the floor tore her away from her fearful trance. Lucene looked down to see she had dropped her torch. She glanced up, toward the hallway, toward that shadow, just in time to see a figure step through the entryway.

A woman, tall and regal, in flowing dark green robes appeared, head held high and back straight, standing under an ornate arch. Jagged horns sprouted from her head. She had an elegant face with sharp, burning orange eyes which surveyed the room around her. Her expression, serious, but calm, collected, conveyed no sense of urgency, but broadcasted to the world around her the distinct sense that she would always get her way. Her hands, clasped behind her back, bore long fingers which stretched into sharp claws. She paused for a moment, frozen in thought; the whole room seemed to pause with her. Lucene could not find it in herself to so much as breath, she could not hear the beating of her heart, nor tear her eyes away for even a moment. After several agonizing moments, the newcomer nodded, then took a step, and the world resumed turning.

She walked with purposeful strides toward the pool in the center of the grand hallway, stopping before the edge. Every last one of the bath-girls now waited on the lip of the pool, watching the horned-woman’s approach with eager anticipation and glazed-over eyes. Her gaze swept the pool, stopping to linger on each and every one of the faces within. Silence ruled the room once more, only to be broken and cast aside when tight lips and narrowed eyes gave way to a fond smile. She leaned forward, and brushed one of the girls’ cheeks, eliciting a gasp of delight, a swoon and a chorus of giggles. A brief conversation followed, carried out in hushed tones and dreamy wide-eyed gazes. From time to time, the woman would stop to gingerly touch one of the girls on the hand, or the neck, or the face. Each touch was always met with the same reaction: blind, open adoration and delight. Lucene could not hear the words, but somehow she knew exactly what was being discussed.

Without warning, she turned abruptly; her gaze found Lucene immediately, as though she had known all along. And those eyes, Lucene could write entire volumes on those eyes and not come close to capturing the feeling of being caught in them. To be captured in that gaze was to be burned from the inside out. Lucene felt it, felt them, boring into her soul. The intensity of that gaze could only be matched by their burning orange glow. She could not move, she could not breath as those slitted pupils regarded her with such intensity. She did not know it was possible to feel even more naked than she already was. For the first time in her life, Lucene truly understood what it meant to be trapped by the gaze of something far more magnificent and terrible than any human could ever hope to be. This was a predator, and whether or not Lucene was prey depended entirely on whether or not this beast deemed her a morsel worthy enough to spend time devouring.

Each of her footfalls was absolutely silent, yet the weight each step carried was far more deafening than ever before. Lucene clenched her fist, desperately trying to steel herself, and found them impossible to unclench. For the princess. For Izelle. She was doing this for Izelle. She would not balk, would not fold. The woman was nearly upon her now, towering over Lucene and casting that same wretched shadow on all sides of the room. A small part of the lady knight’s mind felt ridiculous still holding on to any sense of doubt as to who this stranger could be. She knew who approached her, she knew it with the same certainty that the sun would rise and set—and with the same certainty that, should the woman before her decide so, the sun would in fact, not rise or set. Even if Lucene had never heard the name, had never so much as heard of a dragon before, she would know; the truth was etched into those eyes, and that gaze burned the words into Lucene’s very soul in the flowing calligraphy of terror, awe and wonder.

“Tyranaxxia,” she drawled; the room shook with each syllable as she extended her hand outward in greeting. “You are the knight my noble champion caught snooping about the entrance to my home, are you not?” Despite phrasing it as a question, she neither waited for a reply, nor carried a hint of uncertainty. “I bid thee welcome to my home, Lady Lucene. You will make a fitting servant, and a fine addition to my ranks.”

Half expecting flames to burst from her hands, or erupt from her mouth, Lucene tensed, and waited, barely even registering the dragoness’ words. When her mind finally caught up, she blinked hard, and shook her head, giving Tyranaxxia a harsh look. “Your servant?” The shock and insult were enough to quell Lucene’s fear, if briefly. “I am here to end your miserable existence, you monster. Where is princess Izelle? Tell me what you’ve done to her,” she demanded.

Amusement twinkled in Tyranaxxia’s eye as a sly grin tugged at her lips. “I see you’re quite the fiery one, my lady. Though I suppose I already knew that, it’s a rare sort that can push me out of their mind while unconcious. Of course, that only makes you all the more interesting.” She took a step forward. Lucene stood her ground; at least, she thought she did. The next thing she knew she had taken a stumbling step backward.

Pointed teeth glimmered in the faint light beneath plump, grinning lips. Before Lucene could react, Tyranaxxia’s hand darted forward and seized her by the jaw, forcing her to meet her foe’s gaze. She took a moment, glancing Lucene up and down, sizing up her morsel. “Now now, stay put, running won’t do you any good,” she chuckled, and sighed to herself, shaking her head. “And I know, my lady. I didn’t answer your question. You must be very frustrated. Your princess is safe. In fact, as soon as you surrender to me, I’ll allow you to see her. So why not give in? It’s the only option; I won’t permit any outcome which doesn’t involve you swearing undying service to your new goddess.”

There was a heady scent in the air; there always had been. Throughout the room, flowers bloomed, incense and candles burned. This was different, however. How, exactly, the scent had changed, Lucene couldn’t say, but the air was thicker than ever. Each breath Lucene took sank heavily into her lungs, weighing her down. Her head spun, the more Lucene tried to fix Tyranaxia with a gaze of unblinking resolve, the more her vision swam. With each word Tyranaxxia spoke, the miasma seemed all the more impenetrable. Still, she kept her head in place. Of course, were she to relax, Lucene’s gaze would not budge one bit, as the dragoness held her in place regardless. That was, however, the exact reason she needed to keep her head held high and her body rigid. Lady Lucene would not give Tyranaxxia the satisfaction of relaxing into that grip.

“Is that what you do here, then? All the women you’ve kidnapped over the years? You take them here and enslave them? Bind them to your service?” Lucene spat.

To her surprise, the dragoness threw her head back in full, jubilant laughter. “You still think I am the villain of your story,” Tyranaxxia replied. Keeping her gaze fixed on Lucene, the dragoness turned, and began to pace a wide circle around the knight. As she did so, her clawed fingers gently ran across Lucene’s cheek in a caress that was both tender, but unmistakably threatening. Each point stroked her skin with just enough force to leave the skin intact, while reminding her exactly how easy it would be to tear and rend such soft, delicate flesh. She shivered at the way those sharp points lit up her nerves and stoked her fears. The hand slipped off her cheek; Lucene was sure to track Tyranaxxia’s movement with intent eyes.

“Tell me—actually, don’t. I’ll let you know when I wish to hear your voice again.” Rage bubbled between the cracks in Lucene’s fractured stoicism, but she didn’t bother with a retort.  “I’m sure you’ve heard tales of dragons and their hoards. For some its gold and jewels, others guard knowledge and secrets, weapons and powerful artifacts are common, some even covet art. But, for the greatest of dragons, is the greatest of treasures. My hoard, dear Lady Lucene, is one of intimacy and carnal delight. Specifically, the intimacy and delight which only arise from love between women.”

As though to prove a point, just as Tyranaxxia finished speaking, a young red-haired woman wearing a dazed, distant expression wandered into the grand hallway from one of its many side chambers. She took a moment to stretch sleepily, rubbed her eyes, and glanced about with only slightly less glassy eyes. When her gaze fell on Tyranaxxia, her whole face lit up in delight. “Mistress!” she cried, then flung herself toward Tyranaxxia, wrapped her arms around the towering dragon-woman, and buried her face into Tyranaxxia’s chest, nuzzling like a lonely cat begging for attention.

Just as before, Tyranaxxia’s entire aura completely changed. Her threatening air disappeared as she proceeded to stroke and coo over the girl as though the diminutive redhead really was a needy cat begging for attention. With a single stroke of her cheek, Tyranaxxia immediately captured the girl's gaze, and cocked her head to the side in expectant curiosity. “You have a message for me, little whelp, do you not?”

A blush nearly as red as her fiery locks bloomed over the girls cheeks, and she nodded, standing on her toes as Tyranaxxia bent so she could whisper within the dragoness’ ear. A few moments later, a predatory grin full of sharp, pointed teeth crossed Tyranaxxias face; she ran her tongue across them, and nodded, then stood. “That’s a good girl. Thank you, my dear; I’ll make preparations. Run along now and play with the nymphs, they’ve been quite lonely of late.” Another blush, and another eager nod, the girl scurried off toward the bath. With her back turned, Lucene could see the girl’s robe left the skin of her back exposed. Criss cross patterns of thin scars, all varying in age, ran from her shoulders to the small of her back. Lucene tensed at the sight of them, and, seeing the object of her attention, Tyranaxxia caught the girl by the shoulder, causing her to stop short. Eyes glimmering, the dragoness turned, approaching with slow, silent, heavy footfalls. She loomed over the girl, then leaned in to envelop her from behind.

A tense moment passed. Lucene watched the girl, frozen save the faintest trembling. As though posing a doll, Tyranaxxia cupped the girl’s cheek, and tilted her gaze to look back toward Lucene. Frozen in place, Lucene could only watch the girl, lower lips trembling, eyes pleading—but for what? The dragoness bent lower, to whisper in her ear. The girl’s lips formed a single word. Without pause, Tyranaxxia lunged, sinking her teeth into the girl’s neck and raking her claws down that pretty, delicate skin. A scream of pain and pleasure etched itself into the walls, and into Lucene’s mind as she watched, transfixed.

The redhead’s eyes rolled back into her head as her knees gave out, and Tyranaxxia caught her in one hand with ease, drawing her into a tight embrace. A long, forked tongue flitted out to lap at the redhead’s bleeding wounds, and she fell completely limp and still in Tyranaxxia’s arms. After one last long, greedy lick, Tyranaxxia hoisted the girl’s limp, whimpering body into a princess carry. Their lips met in a long, passionate kiss, and Tyranaxxia carried the girl off, depositing her in the massive tub, where the myriad of other young women waited, and immediately began to cover her with searching fingers, soothing lips, and greedy tongues.

At that, Tyranaxxia spun on heel, and reminded Lucene exactly why she was frozen in place. The fire had returned to her gaze. She approached with the casual predatory menace of a conqueror, one victorious, regardless of whether the conquered understood the weight of her inevitability yet or not. She marched toward Lucene in a seductive prowl that erupted with unflinching beauty and purpose. The word gravitas came to mind, but it did not befit such a creature. It was not so much that she had gravitas, rather, Tyranaxxia was gravity. She stopped a few paces from Lucene—a few human paces, at least, though the young knight was certain Tyranaxxia could be upon her before she could take a single step, should the dragoness wish.

A well sculpted eyebrow rose, pronouncing expectant silence. Lucene deigned not waste her words, and the dragoness flashed a smug, toothy grin. “You understand now, don’t you? I could wax poetic about how little your king cares for his people, how the world looks down on you simply because of who and what are are, but you’ve seen all that needs showing. My girls live in opulence. They are comfortable, provided for, sheltered. Between one another, and in their generous, attentive Mistress, they find all the community, love and belonging anyone could hope for.  When you are mine, you will have all those things, and so much more.” She took a step forward, Lucene could not budge even if she wanted to. That hand sized her chin and cupped her cheek again. Lucene was so tired; she yearned to lean inward.

“All of my treasures are special, but you, my lady, will serve a purpose few can. You are to be one of my champions, much like the knight you faced at the entrance to my home.” Tyranaxxia leaned in close, stopping with her face inches from Lady Lucene’s. Her breath was hot on Lucene’s face, carrying with it an intoxicating, delicious aroma that commanded Lucene to look nowhere but those piercing, burning eyes. In a low, fraying, husky voice, she spoke, just barely above a whisper. “With your submission to me, I will grant you the power to stand above all others. I will imbue you with strength, cunning and will unlike anything you’ve ever known. You will have girls of your own, devoted to you as you will be to me. You will become an instrument of my will, and when the day comes, you will join me, as well as your siblings in arms, and we will remake the world in my image.” Tyranaxxia paused, savoring the look in Lucene’s eye as the Lady Knight struggled to find the right words, the words that would shatter Tyranaxxia’s spell and cast off the power carried on her every breath. She didn’t find them. It didn’t matter, if the dragoness had no intention of killing her, she could bide her time, play at service. When the moment came, it would be all too easy to excise Tyranaxxia’s head. She would save Izelle, and all would be well.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tyranaxxia cooed. “You think you can resist, that your loyalties are unshakable. But all surrender to me with time. From naive, trembling maidens to prideful, wild barbarians, all fall into my grasp eventually; that precious little red-head with a taste for my claws, she once thought herself prince of Kaeleph, until I showed her who and what she truly was: a sweet bed-girl who trembles at the thought of her Mistress’ touch. You are no different.” As though Tyranaxxia could see Lucene’s refutation bubbling from her pores, the dragoness smirked, and shook her head. “I can see that even now you deny me. But tell me this, why have you not once spoken since I commanded you be silent? Why have you not yet budged from that spot since I commanded you remain?” Shock, denial and anger raged against doubt and fear. Lucene opened her mouth to protest, and no words came out, she tried to flee, and could not budge. As despair bloomed across Lucene’s face, so too did smug victory erupt from Tyranaxxia’s.

The Dragoness exhaled, and the sweet haze thickened, Lucene was lost. Satisfied, Tyranaxia beckoned. “It’s time I make you mine; follow me, my champion.” Lucene followed.

Chapter 4

Every step Lucene took rang with hollow questions. What was she doing? Why was she doing it? Her every instinct screamed that she was walking into a trap, that she should be doing whatever she could to look for a way to end this entire ordeal before it was ended for her. Yet struggle and rage could not quell the overwhelming truth of the matter. Denial could gain no purchase. She could not plant her feet or bury her head in the sand when clutched and carried off by the grasping talons of Tyranaxxia’s overwhelming presence. That presence tugged at her, nipped at her ankles, lifted her feet and urged them forward. It shrank Lucene’s universe to the there and then, while illuminating the vast, unknowable expanse of an existence which could allow her to exist in the same space as something so infinitesimally greater.

Her foot caught a loose stone; Lucene ¹, and so too did her thoughts. She steadied herself, and felt as though she were coming up for air. This was wrong; Tyranaxxia was awe inspiring, but Lucene would not, could not falter. Her loyalty to her princess was resolute. She closed her eyes, and made a silent, solemn vow: no force, no foe would make Lucene abandon her quest. She would see Princess Izelle safe. Her fear would not quell, awe still burned in her core, her legs still shook at the sight of such a magnificent being, but she would not so easily snap.

That did not mean her task would be easy. Even as she swore to uphold her purpose, Lucene felt the dragoness’ will closing in all around her, urging her forward, sidelining her, diminishing her, pushing her into the background of her own world. Like rising water, struggling and splashing would keep Lucene from slipping under for a time, but inevitably, it would completely submerge her. Tyranaxxia led, and through spacious, winding, opulent, well-lit halls, Lucene followed. Legs which moved outside her volition carried Lucene ever forward.

The entire place felt like a maze, keeping any sense of direction felt impossible in her current state. Trapped in a labyrinth of twists, turns and innumerable doors, Lucene was forced to accept a simple truth: each step robbed her of options, of agency, of hope. The walls themselves seemed to taunt her, to ask her how she could ever hope to find Izelle, to find a way out, to ever do anything but follow. At the same time, something new burned in Lucene, an ember, a light, a voice, the voice of her awe, her insignificance in the face of something so magnificent as Tyranaxxia. It told Lucene not to worry, not to fret; Tyranaxxia guided her way, Lucene needed only allow the dragoness to guide her, and the way would be found for her.

As much as it angered Lucene to find herself in such a position, as much as she felt listening to that voice was a very bad idea, there was little else to be done. And so, Lucene was led, her gaze, her thoughts captured by the sight of Tyranaxxia’s tall, slender, graceful, powerful form. On more than one occasion, Lucene found herself trailing behind, and felt her pace instinctively quicken. The thought of being left alone, lost in this labyrinth—no matter how well lit and opulent it was—frightened Lucene, though any understanding as to why such a thought seemed so terrible eluded her.

Eventually—any exact time estimate was lost on Lucene—Tyranaxxia rounded one final corner, leading the way into one last long, spacious hallway, which ended in a set of towering, ornate double doors. Tyranaxxia paused for a moment a few paces from the doors, and, without warning, they creaked open, revealing a spacious and lavish bedroom. Three women dressed in revealing, delicate underclothes lay sprawled over the bed, cuddling, sharing kisses with one another between idle chatter. The moment Tyranaxxia entered the room, she immediately captured their undivided attention. Blind delight and adoration lit up each of the girls’ faces as a now quite familiar chorus of gasps and coos filled the room. Tyranaxxia took a moment to fix each of the women in her sights, then murmured something in a gentle, fond tone. The words were too soft to properly reach Lucene’s ears; still, given how the three women immediately nodded, blushed and scurried out of the room—each receiving a tender stroke or two from Tyranaxxia as they scurried past—it was easy enough to approximate what had been said.

With the room clear, Lucene was silently instructed to sit on the bed; her body moved to obey before her mind could think to act. Tyranaxxia stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, devouring Lucene with that burning gaze. She stood in place for silent seconds uncounted, pinning Lucene in place, muscles tense, ready to pounce and rend at a moment’s notice. She didn’t. Then, as though her ability to lay Lucene completely bare with no more than a look was no more extraordinary than a handshake, her spell was broken. Tyranaxxia crossed the room, and sat on the bed, facing Lucene. She hummed in thought for a moment, then spoke. “I suppose I should let your mind off its leash for now,”

Without warning, something clicked in Lucene’s mind. A piece which she had never noticed to be misaligned returned to its proper place, and she felt herself return to the forefront of her own mind. Of course, Lucene could still feel that oppressive will casting a hazy mist over her thoughts, but the space Tyranaxxia occupied within Lucene’s world diminished just enough that the lady knight no longer felt as though she had been pushed out to the far-flung frontiers of her own awareness.

She took a moment to center herself, taking in her surroundings. The room itself was, of course, impressive, but that was to be expected. Its walls were towering, the bed itself comfortable and decorative. All manner of aesthetic flourishes and art pieces decorated the walls. Lucene had grown up in a palace, she was impressed, but hardly speechless. At least, the room itself hardly made her speechless. There was, of course, the more pressing matter to consider, however. Tyranaxxia sat across from Lucene, looming over, and leaning toward her, the dragoness held her face close to Lucene’s, barely half a foot apart. She regarded Lucene with a soft, innate intensity, drawing the lady knight ever inward by the brilliant glow of her eyes. Her plump lips, painted a dark green identical to her scales, glistened in the warm light of the room. The were curved just the slightest bit upward into a patient, amused smirk. Her breath, still filling the air with that sweet, heavy scent, warmed Lucene’s bare skin. A baser urge bade Lucene lean inward, stirring her desire to touch, to feel the softness of Tyranaxxia’s flawless skin and gorgeous scales against her own. She was hardly cold, but Lucene wanted to be warmed.

Worst off all, the anger which Lucene had so futilely tried, and failed to grasp at had been liberated. It was finally within reach, yet Lucene was far too taken by the magnificent sight before her. She silently cursed herself, then fate itself. How could she allow herself to be yanked along by base temptation? And why was she so unlucky? What wicked forces had conspired to set Lucene again a monster who’s terror was matched only by her beauty?

“Speechless, hmm? It’s to be expected I suppose. Or perhaps you’re simply being a very good girl and waiting for me to grant you permission to speak.” Tyranaxxia breathed an indulgent chuckle, and Lucene tried to pretend the praise had no effect on her, but there was no hiding that shiver, the way her toes curled, or how her lips trembled. “Regardless,” she continued. “Perhaps I should take advantage, and explain a few more things to you.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “This is my home; I share it with my girls. With you, now, as well. We are currently in, of course, one of my many bedrooms. More pressingly, we are here because it is time I made you mine.”

Lucene opened her mouth to protest, but before any words could escape her lips, Tyranaxxia pressed a finger to her lips. Lucene’s words were blown away by the sharp exhale of breath which involuntarily escaped her lips at the bright, electrifying sensation she felt from contact. “None of that, now, dear lady,” Tyranaxxia crooned. “I know you think you can resist me. I know right now your fear, anger, and desire are at war. But do not worry, I’ll free you from that conflict. I’ll shine the brilliant light of obedience and purpose on those dark, uncertain nooks and crannies of your thoughts. I’ll warm the cold and lonely edges of your person with all the companionship and love you could ever want. And when we are done, when you have been molded into my beautiful, powerful champion, I will take you to see the princess you hold so dear. I will show you that she is safe and sound, thriving under my guidance, just as you soon will be as well.”

Tyranaxxia paused, staring intently at Lucene, drinking her in, watching, perhaps waiting for something. The moment passed, and she nodded to herself, and leaned back, supporting herself on her palms. “I have said my piece now, my lady. Now is your chance to get all that moaning and wailing out of your system; go ahead, I’m waiting.”

It took Lucene a moment to recover from her shock at the sheer bluntness of Tyranaxxia’s attitude. She spoke as though the entire ordeal was simple routine to her at this point. Under other circumstances she might think to leverage that overconfidence, but everything about Tyranaxxia suggested her confidence was well earned. If anything, the dragoness was being modest—she silenced that line of thought. “What do you expect?” Lucene asked. “Some dramatic speech? If I were good with words I would be an orator, or a herald. But I am a knight, so know this: when the opportunity comes, I will run a sword through your heart.”

And amused smile crossed Tyranaxxia’s face, she sighed, and shook her head. “Why do you think me a monster, dear lady?”

“You are an enemy of the king and his people, bent on bringing about the downfall of countries and nations.”

A puff of smoke burst from Tyranaxxia’s lips as she audibly scoffed. “Lie to yourself all you like, Lady Lucene, you’ve been doing so since you first laid eyes on me, but do not lie to me. Your loyalties are not with your king.”

Lucene relented, nodding in concession. “You’ve been kidnapping women all over the country, perhaps the world, for goddesses know how long. That alone should be enough, but then you made it personal by—”

“By taking your dear Izelle,” Tyranaxxia concluded. “But you’ve seen yourself how well taken care of and accommodate the women here are. I assure you, your Izelle is unharmed and thriving.”

“Then prove it; take me to her,” Lucene demanded. If she could just find Izelle, she would be one step closer to a way for both of them to get out—assuming the dragoness even told the truth.

A single shake of Tyranaxxia’s head erased the option entirely. “That isn’t how this works, my lady; you know that.”

“You’ll only let me see her once you’ve corrupted my mind like the rest of your ‘treasures,’” Lucene snarled.

“Who is to say I have corrupted their minds, twisted their wills? Would you say the same of what you humans have done to your hounds? Have you not considered the possibility, my lady, that abject awe—the feeling of one's place and significance in the world wither and diminish—is simply the natural response your kind has when made to confront beings far greater than they?” Every last one of Lucene’s instincts screamed that Tyranaxxia’s flagrant display of shameless arrogance should have been making her blood boil. It didn’t. In truth, Lucene understood. Who could blame the countless women who had gladly fallen at the dragoness’ feet? Tyranaxxia was a being of incomprehensible grandiosity. Her voice shook the earth, the wind blew in time with her breaths, the sun rose and set at her convenience.

And how could something so small and insignificant as a human being not be frightened? Some might even call it generous, then, how Tyranaxxia offered an out; a way to shrink down the incomprehensible unknown of a reality where humans could be so thoroughly outshone into a small, safe, bite-sized existence, even if it was a lie. It did not matter what great terrors lurked within the unknown when the greatest terror of all was there to ward them all away. There was comfort in that thought, Lucene almost regretted knowing she’d have to kill the dragoness in the end. At that, Lucene felt herself internally stumble, practically choking on her own thoughts as she realized just what direction her mind was taking her. But before she could fully pull herself away, Tyranaxxia seized Lucene by the chin, forcing her to meet those infernal eyes.

A choked gasp escaped Lucene’s throat. This was the first time she had felt Tyranaxxia’s flesh against her own, and the feeling was overwhelming. She was so soft, so warm, warm unlike anything Lucene had ever felt. It flowed into her, took root in her heart, in her belly, in her mind. It seared Tyranaxxia’s image into her retinas and stopped her heart, only so it could be started up once again. Dim light glistened off polished, pointed teeth as Tyranaxxia smiled, and continued.

“Does it not feel natural, my dear, to sink to your knees in my presence?” Lucene was already seated, but she could feel her legs weakening. “Does my unbridled beauty not inspire deference?” Luecene could not tear her focus away from Tyranaxxia’s hated face and wicked voice long enough to answer. “Does my very aura not make your sword arm cry out at the mere notion of being raised against me? Does my scent not cloud your judgment, liberate your inhibitions? There is no shame in this, in knowing who your betters are, in wanting to claim a proper place and purpose. Your princess is with me now. So long as you have her, is there a meaningful difference between serving under your old king, or your new queen?” Lucene did not know. “There is.” There was. “With me, you will receive the dignity, the appreciation—the rewards—which befit your duties. It is okay to want what I am offering, my lady. They all do, in the end.” And was it time, finally? For the end? Lucene had a dragon to slay. And yet, something felt wrong.

Keeping her grip firm on Lucene’s chin, Tyranaxxia leaned in closer, until Lucene could feel the heat radiating off her flesh, until all she could see were those burning eyes, until their lips brushed together as the dragoness spoke. “You want this, my lady. Now ask for it.”

Lucene felt them: all of her emotions, her thoughts, rushing up and condensing into words. Confidence, certainty surged up within her. That smug bitch was so sure of herself, now was Lucene’s chance to speak her mind, to shatter this entire charade. Her lips parted. “Please.”

The moment passed. Lucene felt herself internally recoil in shock, horror, and relief, but her body remained still. This was wrong, Tyranaxxia was her enemy, a blight on the world, wasn’t she? Lucene had come to slay this foul dragoness, yet somehow the monster had twisted her inside and out, and the young knight had never even noticed. She had to—the clawed hand gripping her chin tightened. Tyranaxxia’s sharp talon’s dug into Lucene’s skin, just enough to steal her focus and heighten her sensation. Another hand seized Lucene by the back of the head, and suddenly hot lips were claiming her own.

Lucene did not—could not—think of her anger, her resistance. Her eyes shut tight, closing off the wider world, sharpening their moment together. Tyranaxxia’s lips were so soft, her mouth so sweet, so spicy. Searing heat danced on her flesh as the dragoness pushed Lucene backward onto the bed, and used her mouth. The dragoness’ tongue pushed past Lucene’s lips, dancing against her own, carrying the heat with it. Her entire world was bright, blissful, blazing sensation. Lucene was certain that, were she to open her eyes, Tyranaxxia’s light would blind her. And then, with her lips locked tightly against Lucene’s, Tyranaxxia exhaled, long and slow. Lucene breathed deep, filling her lungs with that sweet, spicy, heady miasma. Nothing had ever burned so bright and beautiful. The heat claimed her, filled her with fiery passion and desire. It branded Lucene’s proper place in the world into her very soul, and singed away doubt, fear.

Time was meaningless trapped in the warm, comforting heat of their passion. But eventually, Tyranaxxia broke their kiss, her hand lingered on Lucene’s throat, wrapping around her neck, not to constrict, but to claim. The heat remained, building slow, sending wonderful tingles over Lucene’s tender flesh. Seconds uncounted passed, and just as the heat began to reach crescendo, Tyranaxxia removed her hand, and as she did so, gently brushed her fingers over Lucene’s throat. An errant gasp burst from her lips as pleasure sang through her body, the flesh which Tyranaxxia had clutched only moments ago had grown so sensitive. Though Lucene’s eyes remained shut, she was certain that—were she to inspect herself in the mirror—she would see the lingering imprint of Tyranaxxia’s hand seared into her soft neck flesh, a permanent reminder of who and what she belonged to.

Lucene’s eyes opened, and she stared upward at her Mistress, her Queen, her Goddess with blind devotion.