The Dragon's Bond

Elara knelt on the cold hard ground with a bucket of soapy water next to her, scrubbing vigorously at a stubborn wine coloured stain someone had left on the marble.

But that stain was nothing compared to the sounds that emanated from behind those onyx doors that led to the king's private chambers. Loud feminine cries merged with low masculine groans.

She focused intently on her task, willing her mind to go blank, a skill she had perfected over the past year in the obsidian palace, the art of being invisible. A very handy skill when you served under creatures whose mere gaze could reduce you to ashes.

She was new and unnoticed and she was thankful for that. In a court filled with scaled draconians and voluptuous dryads a simple and dull human woman such as herself would always be overlooked.

She was a small woman with silver blonde hair tied into a severe knot at the back of her head. Her features were delicate, soft plump lips, large violet blue doe eyes and pale skin. The drab greyish linen she donned did nothing to flatter her slender frame. She was the exact opposite of the kind of women the dragon king bedded.

The noises from the king's chamber finally subsided as the woman let out a sharp final cry, followed by his satisfied rambling growl. Elara exhaled, releasing the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Soon she would be done with her task so that she could scurry back to the safety of the lower servants' quarters.

The massive door swung wide open as a woman emerged, swaying slightly on her feet. Elara quickly recognized her. Lyria, one the court's famous dancers who usually entertained the king. She was a draconian with copper colored scales that dusted along her temples and forearms, shimmering brightly. Her voluptuous curves filled out her scanty silk garments which were now in disarray.

Her sheer veil was ripped and her golden breast band was askew revealing the swell of a heavy breast. Her face was quite flushed, her lips visibly swollen, and her eyes glowed with both triumph and exhaustion. She smelled heavily of sex and the king's distinctive scent.

Lyria's amber colored eyes that had slits in them landed on Elara kneeling on the floor.

Her lips curved into a smirk, one that held both pity and contempt. "He's in ....quite the generous mood," she boldly said, adjusting her breast band with a deliberate slowness. "If you work fast enough, little mouse, he might not know you're even there to begin with." She sauntered away with an exaggerated flip of her coppery hair, her hips swaying seductively and the heavy scent of coupling trailing after her.

Elara's insides churned as she recalled the duties assigned to her this morning by the stern-faced Mistress Calloway. "Clean the antechamber and the king's bathing pool after his ...activities." There was no excuse she could give to evade these tasks, none that Calloway would accept.

*Flashback: thirty minutes ago*

Elara's hands were deeply buried in the entrails of a dead pig. Her life had come to an end.

Not literally

But this felt worse than death. She scrunched her face in disgust.

"You, silver hair." A loud voice called out. She knew without looking up that it was directed at her. She was the only one with silver hair among the servants. It was rare for a human to have hair like hers.

She looked up, the pig innards still dripping down her fingers, to find one of the upper servants staring intently at her with the kind of gaze reserved for shit on designer shoes.

"Me?" She asked, pointing at herself.

"Unless there's another kitchen rat with hair like tarnished silver, yes. You. Mistress Calloway stared up and down at her with obvious distaste. "Go get yourself cleaned up, you are to report to His Majesty's private chambers in thirty minutes."

The pig intestines in her hand slapped the ground with a wet loud plop. The whole kitchen went silent.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean." she said, baffled.

"Deaf as well as filthy, just great" Calloway's lips were set in a thin line.

"The king is in need of a new attendant and you've been assigned to him."

"That can't be, it must be a mistake." her heart sank.

"Twenty five minutes left, don't waste time arguing." She disappeared through the doorway leaving Elara soaked in pig blood and dread.

"Well," Serena said from across the prep table. A grin formed on her freckled face that was equally horrified and delighted.

"You're royally fucked."

"Thanks, Serena." "Very helpful observation."

"Literally Elara, the king doesn't call kitchen maids for their conversation." She wiped her hands on her apron coming around the table towards Elara.

"How many of his last attendants have been caught leaving his chambers at dawn?" "Fifteen? Seventeen?"

"Why would I keep count of that?"

"Well I do, twenty, twenty since you started working here." She grabbed Elara's hand, dragging her to the wash room. "They all always have that look on their face, you know the one, like they'd seen a God, like he'd fucked them stupid."

"How disgusting." Elara's face crumpled.

"How accurate you mean." Serena nudged her to the wash basin. "Strip, you have twenty minutes left to look presentable enough for him not to incinerate you on sight for offending his royal nostrils."

Elara peeled off her blood stained dress with shaky hands. Why was this happening to her? Why now? For the past year she'd been extremely careful not to catch any attention. A whole year of keeping her head down, laying low and staying invisible.

And now she had been assigned to the last person she ever wanted to cross paths with.

Elara scrubbed herself raw, changed into a borrowed dress and let Serena braid her hair.

"Remember," Serena whispered as she pushed Elena toward the stairs. "Keep your head down, do what he says, don't look in his eyes, do not volunteer information, be absolutely boring.

Right. She could do that. She'd been doing it all her life.

*End of flashback*

The Royal Wing was the complete opposite of the lower wing, massively spacious, warm and breathtaking. There were tapestries that depicted the victories of the dragons and the floors were made of polished marble instead of rough stone.

She had never ventured so far up before.

Dragon kind guards all in human form lined up the corridor.

His chambers were at the far end of the hall

Her hands trembled slightly as she gathered all her cleaning tools and she approached the doors that were still open.

She knocked even though they were wide open, there was no response. She waited for a minute and finally decided to enter since she had work to be done.

The room was a massive one, twice the size of the entire lower servants' quarters that she shared with twenty other women.

A bed that could contain six people dominated one wall. The floor to ceiling shelves stuffed with books covered two walls. There was a balcony that overlooked the scorched peaks, its curtains billowing in the morning breeze

Everything in the room was black and gold colored. It screamed wealth and power.

She felt very small.

The doors suddenly shut behind her, startling her. She sharply turned towards the door, baffled at how it had closed shut by itself.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she stared at the doors, "magic" she muttered.

Get it together, you have work to do.

She turned back to the room, it was empty. There was no sign of the king himself.

That was good, she could work quickly and leave before he returned. She began with the sitting area next to the fireplace. Two empty wine goblets sat on the side table and one of them had lipstick on it, probably Lyria's. She picked them up trying not to think about what else those lips had been doing.

She straightened up the cushions on the chair with practiced efficiency. A piece of torn silk, Lyria's veil, lay discarded near the hearth, evidence of what the two had been doing. She picked it up, placing it into her cleaning basket.

She moved to the bed next, and god's it was massive. Draped in black silk sheets. It was messy with pillows scattered all around, some on the floor and others bunched in odd angles. The sheets were rumpled and there was a distinct impression where two bodies had laid. Her face turned a bright red.

She had seen evidence of coupling before but there was something more intense about this one. The sheets smelled of musk and something draconic, it made her head swim. She quickly stripped off the sheets, replacing them with fresh linens.

Books were littered across the nightstand, philosophy, poetry and many others. It seemed the dragon King liked to read.

One of the books was open, its pages laying down on the table. She picked it up, it was poetry, love poetry.

A king who read love poetry after fucking a dancer senseless.

Not your business, keep cleaning.

His bathing chamber was through the door on the far side of his room. Calloway's instructions resounded in her mind "Clean the bathing pool after his...activities."

She gathered her supplies, fresh towels, soap and a scrubbing brush and slowly approached the slightly ajar door.

She could hear the gentle lap of water against stone.

He must have finished and gone elsewhere, maybe the balcony or another room. She concluded and finally pushed the door open. She immediately froze at the sight.

It was an enormous bathing pool carved from black stone and fed by an underground hot spring. Steam rose leaving the room with heat and moisture.

And right in the center of it, waist deep in the water, was the Dragon King himself.

And he was completely, magnificently naked.

He had never left. She had miscalculated and she deeply regretted it right now.

I'm so stupid.

Her brain stopped working for a moment. She should have left immediately, apologized and bolted away. But she couldn't take her eyes off him.

His back faced her, water dripping down bronze skin over muscles that looked like they were carved out of stone. Wet hair fell past deliciously broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist.

Scales, black scales with red edges were littered across his shoulders, and down his spine disappearing into the water.

He was beautiful, dangerously so.

He ran his hands through his hair, the movement making every muscle in his back flex and shift.

She could neither breathe nor think. Move. Don't let him see you.

He turned slightly, reaching for something at the edge of the pool. She caught a glimpse of his profile, a sharp jaw dark with stubble and the sensual curve of his lips, his golden eyes half closed, relaxed.

Then his head tilted slightly. Oh gods, he knows I'm here.

"I can hear your heartbeat." he said without looking back. His voice was lower, rougher.

Elara's throat completely closed up. She quickly bowed her head.

"Your Majesty, I....I didn't know you were....I was told to clean the bath chamber. I deeply apologize for my intrusion. I'll just....."

"Stay." A command

Her feet were rooted to the floor.

"Shut the door."

She unconsciously shut the door behind her. The soft click echoed in the steamy room.

She was alone with the King now, completely alone.

"Come closer." he commanded again.

"Your Majesty, I...I shouldn't. It's n..not appropriate..."

"I don't like to repeat myself." "Come closer." This time dragon compulsion threaded through his voice. Not strong enough to coerce her but enough to make refusal difficult.

Still clutching her cleaning supplies like a shield, she took three shaky steps forward.

He turned around.

Elara forgot how to breathe.

The water ran in rivulets down his chest and over abs that looked like they had been carved by a sculptor obsessed with perfection. There were more scales scattered across his chest and sides. His arms were corded with muscles, powerful enough to snap her into two.

And lower....

She jerked her eyes up before it could travel below his waist but not before catching a glimpse of the sharp v of his hips disappearing into the water.

Her face was on fire.

He ran a hand through his damp hair as his lips curved up into a slow, predatory smile. He'd noticed, of course he had.

"You're new." His deep voice echoed through the steamy chamber. Not a question.

"Your name?"

She was startled by the question. Why did he want to know her name? She was a mere kitchen maid.

"Elara, Your Majesty."

"Elara." He tested it slowly, deliberately.

"I don't recall seeing you before?"

A lie. He'd seen her multiple times. But she didn't need to know that.

"I..I w..work in the lower kitchens your Majesty, I've only just been reassigned." she stammered with her head bowed desperately trying to look anywhere but at him. "I've only been here for a year."

"Interesting." He purred, moving a bit closer through the water, his steps were slow, unhurried, like he was stalking his prey.

She visibly flinched at the movement making him chuckle darkly.

"No need to be scared of me, little mouse."

"I.. I'm not scared..." her voice quivered miserably betraying her.

He grinned wickedly. Oh but she was terrified, he could smell it on her, her fear mixed with lavender and something sweeter that made his mouth water.

She was different from his usual women, so.. innocent, delicate like a frightened little rabbit. The contrast between her softness and his own primal power made heat pool in his groin.

"You lie to me, little mouse." "But I can forgive it..this time."

He slowly rose from the water not bothering to cover himself. Water dripped down the hard planes of his stomach, down his hips and over thick powerful thighs. His thick shaft, dark and engorged sprang free, its head a deep angry red pulsing with a life of its own.

Elara's eyes widened with barely concealed shock. Her violet blues impossibly large as they trailed up his emerging form. She had been trying impossibly hard not to stare, but human nature won. Her sharp intake of breath echoed loudly over the gentle lap of water. She had never seen one before but she didn't think it would be this large.

How utterly shameless

He stretched languidly, muscles rippling under damp skin and watched as she swallowed hard.

Her gaze darted downwards again, just for a second before jerking back upwards. She looked like a ripe tomato.

"Come here" his voice softer than before yet even more commanding.

She stood frozen as she forced herself not to look at him, her cheeks burned hotter.

The air in the room grew thick with steam and something else entirely, something primal.

"I...Your Majesty I'm here to clean" her voice came out as a whisper.

"And I require assistance with my bath."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied hesitantly as she moved quickly to the edge of the bathing pool where he stood. Any more excuses and she'd be dragon food.

"Begin with my hair"

Her fingers trembled as she took a vial of scented oil from her basket. She knelt down on the edge and reached for his hair, her knuckles brushing against the wet strands.

"Good." He shut his eyes slightly tilting his head back. "Now, my shoulders."

A jolt, sharp and electric shot through her arm as it made contact with his skin, making her gasp. He sharply inhaled with a low rumble vibrating in his chest.

Her hands, still tingling, moved down, hesitantly at first, then with more purpose as she began to rub the oil into his skin. His muscles felt hot beneath her palm. A strange warmth began to bloom in her chest spreading outwards and it was definitely not the steam. It was him.

A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as his skin flushed darker beneath her touch.

"Lower." He said with a strained voice, laced with urgency. "My chest."

Elara hesitated once more as her hands hovered over his broad back. Moving to his chest meant she would have to face him fully, it also meant facing the undeniable evidence of his arousal.

"P..pardon me, Your Majesty but I..."

Before she could complete her sentence his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward. She stumbled, losing her balance and plunging into the steaming water with a loud splash.

Her drab linen dress, now completely drenched, clung to her like second skin revealing her every curve and dip.

He tightly held her wrist preventing her from scrambling back. Her body was pressed flush against his as the water swirled around them reaching her waist.

Her nipples, hardened from the sudden chill, brushed against his hard chest.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. The prominent hardness of his cock pressed against her soaking thigh.

Her eyes, wide and terrified, snapped up to him. His golden orbs burned right into hers, hungry and possessive.

"Continue, Elara" his voice was a low dangerous whisper, hot against her ear.

She fumbled nervously, her fingers brushing against his chest. The strange warmth intensified. Her hands moved over his pectorals, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath.

He deeply groaned, his hips subtly thrusting forward, grinding against her. She could feel his erection against her thigh growing.

"This..this is enough Your Majesty." She gasped, her voice barely audible. Her breath came out in short gasps as she felt the full weight of his desire.

His arms tightened, crushing her body to his. His large powerful hands slid lower, past her waist, molding over the curve of her hips, then cupping her soft ass, lifting her slightly and pressing her more firmly against his throbbing cock.

His head dipped down as his lips grazed the delicate skin of her neck sending shivers straight to her core. His tongue traced a wet path from her earlobe down to her collarbone. She let out a loud whimper, a sound foreign to her. No one had touched her like this before and she couldn't name what he was making her feel.

"Release me." Her voice cracked as she cried out, her small fist pounding against his solid chest. The heat that emanated from him was intoxicating and that strange pull she had felt before, the one she dismissed, now undeniably pulsed through her veins.

Her desperate shoves against his chest only made him tighten his grip on her ass as his fingers dug into her soft flesh, lifting her further against his erection. He nipped at her neck, a playful yet possessive bite that drew another whimper from her lips, louder this time.

"Let me go, Please, Your Majesty." She begged.

He pressed his lips onto the shell of her ear, his hot breath making her shiver. "Why would I let you go, little mouse, when you feel so perfect against me?" his voice was strained as if he was barely holding himself back from completely devouring her.

"This isn't r.. right." She stuttered even as her traitorous body responded to his touch.

"Right?" He chuckled. "I'm the Dragon King, I decide what is right in this entire kingdom."

One of his hands moved from her ass to tangle in her silver blonde hair, gently but firmly pulling her head back to expose more of her throat to his hungry gaze.

The severe knot had finally come undone and the wet strands cascaded over his arms like moonlight.

"You're trembling." His lips brushed against her pulse. "Are you cold, Elara? Or is it something else entirely?"

"I'm scared." She said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're the dragon king and I'm just a kitchen maid. I'm nothing. This will ruin me."

Before he could respond a sharp knock echoed from the outer chamber followed by a male voice.

Noticing his distraction she pushed herself away from him with all her might. She immediately stumbled back through the water putting distance between them.

"Your Majesty! The council meeting begins in Ten minutes"

He released a frustrated growl that sounded more dragon than human.

"Luck seems to be on your side little mouse, but make no mistake, this is far from over."

He emerged from the pool with grace, completely unbothered about his nakedness or his evident arousal.

"There's a dressing chamber through that door." He said, wrapping a towel around his waist. "Get changed and wait in my chambers till I return."

"I need to return to my duties.."

"Your duty is to me now." His voice cut through her protest. "You are my personal attendant, you will wait in my chambers and you will not speak a word of today's occurrence to anyone, understood?"

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

"And Elara, don't even think about running, I can find you anywhere in this palace. Your scent...." He inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating "it's burned into my memory."

"Yes, Your Majesty." She whispered with defeat. But deep down, beneath her fear and confusion, a spark of defiance flickered to life. She silently plotted her escape.

Elara's gaze lingered on him as he disappeared through the doorway, her ears straining for any sound of his return.

The moment she was certain he was gone she quickly stripped out of her soaked dress, her fingers fumbling with the clinging fabric. She ventured into the dressing chamber, shocked at the sheer amount of fine silks and linen, she reached for one but hesitated, staring at it like it was poisoned.

No, absolutely not. Wearing his clothes, or worse, clothes meant for the women he bedded was definitely not a choice. It felt like crossing an invisible line.

She gathered her wet dress and walked back to the main chamber, draping it over the ornate chair nearest to the fireplace. The flames had died down, but hopefully there was still enough heat to dry it before he returned.

Her eyes darted to the door every few seconds, her heart jumping at every distant sound in the corridor.

How long does a council meeting even last? Thirty minutes? An hour?

She caught sight of her reflection in the polished surface of a decorative shield mounted on the wall. Wild silver hair and pale flushed skin standing in nothing but her undergarments in the Dragon king's private dwelling. I'm insane

She tried to retie her hair but the knot just wouldn't hold properly partly due to how badly her hands were trembling.

"Damn it." She hissed beneath her breath finally managing a messy bun.

Deciding she could no longer wait she grabbed her dress from the fireplace. It was now partially dry, still damp in some places but it would have to do.

She couldn't stay a second longer, not with his scent still clinging to her skin, not with the memory of his hands burning into her flesh.

She frantically pulled the dress over her head, her hands fumbling with the lace.

The dress clung uncomfortably to her undergarments, but she barely noticed.

The door. Just get to the door.

She walked to the door, her hands trembling as it closed around the knob hoping it wasn't locked. She half expected it to be locked and half expected dragon fire to consume her for her disobedience.

The handle smoothly opened.

He didn't lock it.

She stared in disbelief. The arrogant bastard hadn't even bothered to lock the door. He'd simply assumed that his command alone would keep her caged like a docile pet. He'd greatly underestimated her.

The hallway was exactly as she remembered, lined up with draconian guards, her heart hammered so violently she was certain they could hear it.

She composed herself, erasing all emotion from her face and stepped out, waiting for something, anything.

Invisible. Be absolutely invisible.

The nearest guard's dark eyes flicked towards her. Her breath caught but she refused to stop as she kept her gaze lowered and movements unhurried.

The guard's attention slipped away dismissing her as beneath notice.

They have no idea he ordered me to stay.

She passed the guards one by one keeping her breath study. She turned a corner, then another. The Opulent tapestries and polished marble gradually gave way to simpler stone.

A few more turns, down four flights of stairs and finally, finally, she heard the familiar sounds of the lower quarters. Clattering dishes, raised voices and the chaos of servants preparing for the midday meal.

She slipped into the communal washing area, her legs nearly giving out from relief.

She pressed her back against the stone wall and tried to calm her breathing.

"Elara? Is that you?"

Her eyes snapped open to find Serena staring at her.

"Good heavens, you look like you've seen death itself." she whispered, rushing to her.

"What in the world happened? Did he...Did the king...."

"Nothing happened Serena." She said quickly, her voice flat. "I cleaned his chambers, and I left, that's all."

Serena's freckled face creased with suspicion. "You're such a terrible liar and you know it." "Your dress is wet, your hair's a mess and you're shaking."

"I'm fine," she said, pushing past Serena towards the servants' dormitory. "I just need to change and get back to work,"

"Back to work? Elara you've been reassigned to the king's.."

"No." the word came out sharper than she intended. "I'm going back to the kitchens, to my old duties. I'll speak to Mistress Calloway, tell her I'm unsuitable. I'm not going back to those chambers.

Serena grabbed her arm, "You can't just refuse a royal assignment, that's not how it's done."

"Then I'll make myself so incompetent she'll have to reassign me."

Elara's eyes flashed with determination. "I'll burn his breakfast, shrink his clothes, break his things, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Are you insane? He'll have you executed."

"Better dead than..." Elara stopped herself.

"I just...I can't go back there Serena, I can't....I refuse to."

Serena stared at her stubborn friend for a long moment and sighed. "Fine, but you're playing a dangerous game. Dragons don't like being denied what they want. And from what I hear, that one always gets what he wants.

Elara remained silent as she grabbed a clean uniform from her trunk and began undressing.

Over the next few hours she immersed herself into the most menial tasks she could find. She scrubbed pots till her hands were raw and she hauled buckets of water.

She volunteered for jobs everyone else avoided. Anything at all to stay busy and anything that had nothing to do with dragons.

By late afternoon she was covered in grime, sweat and fish guts, exactly as she wanted. This way no one would look at her twice. She was finally invisible again and invisible meant safe in her world.

But as she worked she couldn't shake off the feeling of eyes on her back.

She recalled his last words once again as a shiver ran through her spine,

"I can find you anywhere in this palace, your scent is now etched into my memory."

She scrubbed harder in an attempt to completely erase the memory of his touch, the heat of his body and the confusing ache it awakened in her.

When the dinner bell rang, she sat at the farthest table, making herself appear even smaller.

For a few precious hours, Elara let herself believe she'd escaped him. She was oblivious to Mistress Calloway's narrowed gaze from across the hall.

She failed to see the draconian messenger who arrived at the entrance and little did she know that the dragon king's rage had set the very air ablaze.