As soon as the last word leaves Sylas's lips, I let out a breath I've been holding. My entire nervous system is buzzing, and my skin is tingling—it feels like I swallowed a lightning bug. Yet, before I can even muster the courage to speak, Sylas's fingers gently close around my wrist.
It isn't forceful or demanding, but… confident and assured.
"Walk with me," he murmurs.
It isn't a question or a command, but something in between—and for some stupid reason, I follow.
Roan looks at me with furrowed brows, but I wave off his concern with my hand. As devious as this snake is, I don't think he will hurt me, and I already have enough attention on me after being the shining star of today… now being taken away by the star of the night.
Orien watches with wide eyes, completely baffled, and I give him a reassuring smile before turning away from them completely.
The crowd parts as Sylas leads me along a narrow side path, away from the amphitheater, and into a corridor of hanging lanterns. We're still outside, but the way the lamps caress the path creates the illusion of being kept inside. The world becomes soft gold and flickering shadows as we walk, the serpent's pace unhurried.
I should probably pull away or question him—well, honestly, I should do anything except follow a seductive snakeman into the dark—but my body isn't listening to my brain tonight.
We reach a small alcove draped with red and gold silks, which I guess is probably used by the serpent performers between acts, and Sylas drags me in. He guides me to a dark corner, releases my wrist, and turns to look at me, leaving only a few inches between us.
He is about the same height as me, if not a few centimeters shorter, so his features are easy to study up close. The warm lantern light is gilding his pointed cheekbones, and his serpentine eyes reflect the glow at me. His chest rises and falls slowly, his body still warm from dancing—threads of fire-opal shimmer along his collarbone and down the dip of his throat.
"I wanted to thank you properly," he says, his voice smooth and intoxicating. It isn't too deep, nor too feminine, but it feels like warm honey in my chest.
"I– thank? For what?" I manage, but my voice sounds embarrassingly breathless.
"For watching," he says.
"It was a nice performance, literally the entire valley was watching, my eyes aren't anything special…" I frown a little, feeling flustered, "Besides, you already said thanks a few minutes ago–"
"On the contrary," he cuts me off with a teasing smirk, "Your eyes are so special that they're the only ones I want to capture. You stared at me as if you wanted to devour me whole."
My knees wobble, "I–I wasn't… I didn't mean to–"
"I know," his smile curves upward, turning his expression into something sinfully seductive. "Some desires come effortlessly."
I'm going to die. Right here. Right now. This fucking serpent is going to kill me with words. I can't believe I'm going to the afterlife after only finding out I'm a woman today.
Sylas lifts a hand slowly, giving me enough time to pull away… but I don't.
His long, slender fingers brush the underside of my jaw, tilting my face upward slightly. His nails are painted a deep jade hue, and are like long claws tracing gently over my skin.
"Your scent is reacting to mine," he whispers. "Do you sense it, too?"
I swallow hard, then inhale. I was too nervous to notice before he pointed it out, but… There is definitely some kind of reaction happening between us. The heat in my abdomen and the intoxicating scent emanating from him are probably related, but I don't want to think about it.
Sylas doesn't wait for me to answer, "How curious. Dragons do not usually yield to serpents."
"I'm not yielding," I growl.
"Of course not," he agrees, far easier than I thought he would. His fingertip traces my nape, my pulse thundering beneath his gentle touch. He steps even closer, our bodies nearly touching. I can feel his breath fan my lips, sweet with spiced fruit wine, as he adds, "But you want to."
My breath catches. Want… to yield?
My dragon instincts flare wildly. The fire in my belly burns hotter, and the unfamiliar sensation presses against my ribs. Ren's mark tingles slightly—not painful, but… ticklish, almost.
"Tell me to stop," Sylas whispers.
…I don't.
He smiles, slow and knowing, before leaning closer.
Sylas's lips are warm and soft at first—testing, teasing—but the moment I gasp, he deepens the kiss instantly. His hand slides behind my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he invades my mouth. His tongue moves with a slow, liquid precision, like he's dancing again… like every motion is intentional.
I'm not even sure how it happens, but my hands end up fisting his robes—I honestly don't remember moving them. I'm pulling him closer before I can process it. In response, he presses me gently against one of the silk-draped pillars, his body pinning mine without force.
I moan.
It's quiet and euphoric, but absolutely humiliating. I've never heard such a pathetic sound leave my body, and if I were able to think straight right now, I'd probably want to jump off a cliff… but I don't have the brain capacity.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, kissing along my jaw. "You respond beautifully." Sylas's hand trails down my side, stopping respectfully at my waist—but his thumb circles just above the mark Ren placed. He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, "Your dragon will taste jealousy tonight."
I exhale shakily, my mind foggy. "...What? Who?"
Sylas just chuckles, and the sound is both frightening and hypnotic. He kisses down my jaw, along the swell of my pulse, leaving a wet warmth in his wake. His thumb circles around my waist a few more times, Ren's mark humming with awareness.
Wait… Ren?
I can feel Ren's presence somewhere nearby, but I can't sense directly where.
"He's learning what it feels like to lose," Sylas whispers. My heart lurches at his words, but I don't have time to think before he's kissing me again.
This time isn't so heated and passionate… the kiss is slow and sensual, and doesn't last anywhere near as long—much to my body's dismay. He steps back after a moment, leaving me dizzy against the pillar.
"Can I see your wrist, Zoryn?" Sylas asks, holding out his hand. Hearing my name from his lips sends a shiver down my spine, and although I'm unsure of his intentions, I end up placing my wrist into his palm.
The serpent presses his lips to my pulse, then nips me gently with one of his teeth. It isn't a full bite, but it's just enough to draw blood. Then he runs his long tongue over the wound, healing it right back up. What's left behind is a small star, no larger than a few grains of rice.
"I'll see you soon," he says with a smile as he pulls away. "If you ever need me… don't be afraid to call. I'll come for you anytime."
"...Okay," I end up saying breathlessly.
As I watch the serpent head back from where we came, I hear the crunching of gravel somewhere behind me. When I glance back, I don't see anyone… but I have a feeling I know who's there.