CHAPTER 55: THE DRAGON’S CHOICE

"The Coalition army will reach the walls in six hours, Your Majesty. Their dragons are already circling."

Arthur’s eyes snapped open, instantly alert despite the warmth of the two bodies pressed against him. Isolde stirred on his left, her blonde hair spilled across his chest. Urzara remained dead to the world on his right, one muscled green arm thrown possessively across his waist.

The messenger—one of Lily’s network—stood at the foot of the bed, politely averting her eyes from the tangle of naked limbs. "Commander Hawklight needs you in the war room immediately."

"Six hours?" Arthur sat up, his mind already racing through defensive possibilities. "The scouts said two days."

"That’s what he needs to explain, Your Majesty."

The bells started then—deep, resonant tones that hadn’t been heard in Lyranth for a generation. Invasion bells. The sound jolted both queens awake.

"What—" Urzara’s hand went instinctively for an axe that wasn’t there.

"Company’s early," Arthur said, already moving. He pulled on clothes with practiced efficiency, his supernatural speed making him a blur. "Isolde, we need the nobles locked down. No panic, no fleeing. Urzara, your berserkers—"

"Will be ready," the orc queen finished, rolling out of bed with warrior’s grace. Despite the situation, Arthur couldn’t help but appreciate the view as she stretched, her enhanced physique a work of lethal art.

"Save it for after we win," Isolde said dryly, though her own gaze lingered on both her bedmates. "We have an empire to defend."

Five minutes later, Arthur strode into the war room to find organized chaos. Hawklight stood over the tactical map, moving pieces with grim efficiency. Elliott was there, fully armored, along with several senior officers. And in the corner, wearing an elegant dress that seemed wildly inappropriate for the situation, stood Lady Elisa Parquet.

Arthur’s system pinged softly—a frequency only another transmigrator would trigger.

"Report," he commanded, even as part of his mind processed Lisa Park’s presence.

"We’ve been played," Hawklight said bluntly. "The force spotted two days ago was a feint. While we watched them, the real army came through the Thornwood passages. Lady Parquet discovered the deception."

All eyes turned to Lisa, who stepped forward with a slight smile. "I have a... unique method for tracking large troop movements. Alchemical signatures in the air, you might say."

Her eyes met Arthur’s, and in that moment, he knew she knew he knew. Two Earth souls recognizing each other across impossible distance.

"How did they move so fast?" Arthur asked, filing the transmigrator issue for later.

"Emperor Lyralei himself leads them," Lisa answered. "His phoenix fire can energize an entire army. They’ve been force-marching for days."

"Dragons?"

"Three confirmed, circling at high altitude. We can’t identify them from this distance."

Arthur studied the map. Six hours wasn’t much time, but it would have to be enough. "Integration status?"

Elliott shifted uncomfortably. "The men are... adjusting. Some friction between human and orc units. They don’t trust each other yet."

"They will," Arthur said with certainty. "Or they’ll die separately. Any other surprises I should know about?"

"Just one," Hawklight said. "Beatrice is in her tower, preparing what she calls ’theoretical combat applications.’ She seems... agitated."

Of course she was. Arthur had returned with a new wife, spent the night with both queens, and hadn’t even checked on her. Through their bond, he could feel her hurt mixing with determination and something else—jealousy?

"I’ll handle it," Arthur said. "Hawklight, basic defensive positions. Elliott, get the integrated units drilling together. Lady Parquet..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I’d like to discuss your tracking methods. Privately. War room alpha in twenty minutes."

She caught the subtext, nodding gracefully. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Arthur left them to their preparations, taking the stairs to Beatrice’s tower three at a time.

The tower door slammed shut behind Arthur.

Beatrice stood surrounded by floating spell diagrams. Her hair was wild with magical static, but Arthur only had eyes for the way her chest heaved beneath the thin silk of her robes.

The fabric clung to her curves, nearly transparent where her magic made it shimmer.

"You’re angry," Arthur stated.

His hands found her waist, pulling her against him despite the crackling energy surrounding her.

"Frustrated," Beatrice corrected, though her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed her against the nearest workbench.

Scrolls and spell components scattered as he lifted her onto the surface. "You come back with a new wife and don’t even—"

His mouth crashed into hers, cutting off the words. She gasped against his lips, her body arching into him with that perfect mix of resistance and surrender that always drove him wild.

The kiss deepened, becoming something more—an apology, a promise, a claim. His tongue traced the seam of her lips until she opened for him, their bond flaring bright as their connection deepened.

When they broke apart, her lips were swollen—her magic and her essence. "You can’t just—" she protested weakly, even as her hands worked at his belt.

"I can," he growled, his supernatural speed making the leather straps fall away before she could finish her protest. "And I will."

Her legs wrapped around him instinctively, the silk of her robes sliding against his bare skin.

The fabric parted easily under his hands, revealing her body in all its glory—her skin practically glowing with their shared.

"You’re beautiful," he murmured, his hands mapping her body as he tasted the sensitive skin of her neck.

She arched beneath him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he found the exact spot that would make her gasp.

"Arthur," she gasped as his hand slid between her legs, finding her already wet. The sensation was sharper than ever before, their bond amplifying every touch. "The battle—"

"Can wait," he growled, two fingers sliding inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the table as pleasure spiked through their connection.

The workbench creaked under them as he drove his fingers deeper, her hips rising to meet each thrust.

Arthur could feel her pleasure as if it were his own, could sense the way her magic responded to his touch. It was intoxicating, overwhelming—this connection that went beyond physical.

"Look at me," he demanded, and she forced her eyes open, meeting his glowing gaze. The sight of him above her, his body moving with supernatural grace, his power wrapping around them both—it sent her over the edge.

She came with a cry, her body clenching around his fingers as pleasure crashed through their bond. Arthur followed with a groan, his own release triggering something deeper, something that resonated through their connection.

Then he was inside her, filling her completely. She cried out at the stretch, the intensity of it. He was bigger now, his supernatural evolution affecting even this. But the pleasure was sharper too.

She clung to him as he moved, each thrust sending her higher, their bond making every sensation more intense than anything they’d experienced before.

The workbench groaned under them as Arthur drove into her, the ancient wood barely holding together under their supernatural strength.

Beatrice’s nails dug into his back as she met each thrust, her magic flaring around them in time with their movements. The floating spell diagrams burst into light as their combined power overwhelmed the delicate constructs.

"Arthur!" she gasped, her body coiled tight with need. "Please, I need—"

He didn’t make her wait. In one smooth motion, he flipped her onto her hands and knees, the workbench barely containing their combined weight.

He entered her from behind, the new angle making her cry out as he filled her completely. She pushed back against him, taking him deeper as their bond flared between them.

Arthur could feel her through their bond—her pleasure, her need, her love. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, perfect.

"Mine," he growled possessively, his hands gripping her hips as he drove into her.

"Yours," she agreed, her voice breathless. "Always yours."

The workbench finally gave way under them, collapsing in a shower of splinters as their movements became more desperate. They landed on the stone floor, their bodies still connected as Arthur drove into her with supernatural strength.

Beatrice cried out as another climax hit her, her magic flaring around them as their bond strengthened.

Arthur followed her over the edge, his release triggering a pulse through their connection.

Then they were lying together on the stone floor, their bodies still connected as they caught their breath. Beatrice curled against him, her body still humming with pleasure as their bond pulsed between them.

"You’re incredible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She curled against him, her body still humming with pleasure. "We’re incredible together."

The words sent a thrill through him. Whatever came next—Coalition armies, dragon politics, prophecy fulfillment—they would face it together. As partners. As king and...

"Mine," he growled possessively, and she shivered again.

"Yours," she agreed, then pulled back slightly. "But I’m fighting with you today. On the walls."

"Beatrice—"

"No arguments." Her eyes blazed with determination. "I’ve been developing new combat applications.

Theoretical becomes practical today." She smiled, sharp and fierce. "Someone needs to show your new orc queen that your first witch isn’t just decorative."

Arthur studied her, seeing the steel beneath the silk. She’d grown stronger while he’d been gone, more confident. "Elliott stays with you as guard."

"Deal." She kissed him again, quick and fierce. "Now go. You have other fires to put out."

He kissed her forehead and headed for the courtyard, where Sera was landing with earth-shaking force. The moment was over, but the connection remained—a steady thrum of power and affection in the back of his mind.

"I’ll always come back to you," he promised.

A massive shadow passed over the tower window, and they both looked up to see a familiar dragon form circling down toward the palace.

"Sera," Arthur identified. "And if she’s here instead of with the Coalition..."

"It means those three dragons aren’t hers," Beatrice finished. "Go. I’ll be ready."

Arthur kissed her forehead and headed for the courtyard, where Sera was landing with earth-shaking force. By the time he arrived, she’d shifted to her human form, looking unusually serious.

"We have a problem," she announced without preamble. "Those dragons with the Coalition? They’re my rivals. Kazimir the Black, Vaelthorne the Storm, and Nyx the Void."

A crowd was gathering—soldiers, commanders, both his queens. Arthur kept his expression neutral. "Can you handle them?"

"Three on one? Not likely." Sera’s amber eyes gleamed. "But they haven’t fully committed to the Coalition. Dragons took the gold but they’re waiting to see which way the wind blows. I can... negotiate. Convince them to stay neutral."

"What’s your price?" Because there was always a price with dragons.

Sera smiled, showing those too-sharp teeth. "Formalize what we both know is inevitable. Name me your Dragon Bride. Complete that portion of your prophecy. Give me status beyond ’ally’ and they’ll think twice about attacking what’s mine."

The crowd murmured. Urzara watched with interest rather than jealousy—orcs understood strength claiming strength. Isolde’s expression was calculating, already working through political implications.

Arthur felt the prophecy’s weight, Gizmo’s warning echoing in his mind. But six hours wasn’t time for careful consideration.

"Done," he said. "But simple words won’t convince dragons. What do you need?"

"A claiming mark," Sera said, stepping closer. "Something they can smell on me. Dragon senses are... thorough."

She was asking him to mark her publicly, in front of his armies. To make it undeniably clear she belonged to him now. Arthur recognized the power play—she was forcing him to commit fully, no half-measures.

"Then let’s make it convincing," he said.

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