CHAPTER 132: CLOSE

Aelin

The hallway was quiet at this hour—just the soft tap of my slippers echoing against the polished stone as I approached Draegon’s study door. My heart beat harder with every step. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. It was just a meal. A small thing. Seraphine had made it sound so simple, and yet my palms were clammy and my breath came too shallow.

Still, I stopped in front of his door and raised my hand. I knocked gently.

For a moment, there was silence. Then came Draegon’s deep voice from inside.

"Come in."

I took a breath and opened the door.

He was at his desk, bent over a stack of parchment, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a faint golden glow from the enchanted lantern casting warm light across his dark hair and sharp features. His eyes lifted when he saw me, and he immediately stood.

"Aelin?" His brows rose slightly. "It’s late."

"I know," I said, stepping in and gently shutting the door behind me. "It is."

I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I folded them in front of me, then unfolded them again as I took a few more steps forward.

"I, um—" I cleared my throat. "I heard that... you hadn’t eaten anything today. So I thought I’d..." My voice faltered, and I looked down, feeling the blush already creeping across my cheeks. "I brought you food." There was a pause. My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my sleeve as I mumbled, "Food... to eat together."

I didn’t think he heard me. I barely heard myself.

But then I looked up and saw the smile tug at his mouth.

"I’m hungry," he said, and there was something warm in his voice. Sincere. Maybe even a little amused. But not mocking.

My heart fluttered a little.

I turned and waved lightly at the maid standing outside the door. She came in quickly, pushing a gleaming silver trolley covered with dishes, steam rising gently from under the lids.

Draegon cleared the parchments from his desk as if preparing to set the food there, but then he looked up and gestured instead to the low guest table by the arched windows.

"There," he said, his tone calm but decisive. "Set it there."

The maid nodded and wheeled the trolley over.

I blinked, slightly flustered. I hadn’t specified where the meal should be set up. I probably should have. And now I worried he might think I was imposing, or that this whole thing was too forward—

But when I glanced at him again, Draegon wasn’t looking at me in confusion or with judgment. He was focused on the table, watching the maid begin to arrange the dishes with a quiet kind of attentiveness. Like this wasn’t strange. Like it wasn’t unusual.

The tension in my shoulders loosened just a little.

I stood near the edge of the guest table, hands folded again, eyes flickering from the plates being set down to Draegon as he came to stand beside me. He was tall, his presence solid and warm even without touching me, and for a breath I didn’t dare move.

He didn’t say anything, not yet. But he stood close. Close enough that I could smell the faint smoke-and-resin scent that always clung to him.

I glanced up at him from the corner of my eye.

He was watching the food being set down, but his expression wasn’t detached. It was curious. Maybe even a little touched.

"I hope it’s okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze slid to mine. "It’s more than okay."

My chest tightened. The warmth I felt in that moment—it was different than the fire magic I knew. It was quieter. Sweeter.

And when he turned fully toward me, his expression soft, I realized that sharing something simple like a meal really was more intimate than I’d expected. Maybe it was because of how much it had taken for me to do it. Maybe because it felt like something ’ours’.

The maid finished setting the dishes—a soft stew, roasted vegetables for me and meat steaks for draegon, and a delicate pastry I’d asked for specifically. When she bowed and exited the room, we were left alone. Just Draegon, me, and the soft flicker of candlelight in the corners.

I felt him glance at me again. My heart fluttered

But I didn’t run.

I took a small breath, and as he pulled out the chair for me to sit

"Thank you," I said softly and he came around and sat next to me. Usually people sit in front but I liked how he chose to be beside me.

"Let’s eat," He said and I nodded shyly, liking how the space was just us.

***

Ariston

Drakkar looked over his shoulder—and that damned smirk curved across his lips again. The kind that always made my blood rise, but now, in this state, it did worse. Much worse.

"So this was the real reason you nearly fell," he said, stepping slowly back toward me, voice deep and amused. "You’ve gone into heat again."

The words landed like a slap.

I stiffened, breath caught in my throat. My body tensed instinctively, one foot shifting back, trying to keep space between us.

"Don’t," I snapped. "Don’t come near me."

He didn’t stop walking, didn’t speed up either. Just kept approaching like he had all the time in the world.

"You know I can help you," he said. His tone softened, but it didn’t ease the heat in my chest. "No one else even knows who you really are. Who are you going to run to, Ariston? A stranger? Another soldier? One of the demons downstairs?" He paused, eyes gleaming. "You’re trembling."

"I can handle it," I growled, fists clenched at my sides. "I’ve dealt with worse."

"I’m sure you have," Drakkar said, still smiling. "But why suffer through it when I’m right here?"

The arrogance in his voice lit something under my skin.

"You think this is funny?" I snapped. "You think just because I’m... in this state, I’m going to crawl to you for help?"

He tilted his head. "I think you want to."

"You’re wrong."

"I’m not," he said easily, then took another step, closer than I wanted. I could feel the warmth of him from here. "But fine. I’ve never forced myself on anyone—and I’m not about to start now." Then he turned, "Although, I doubt you’ll ever feel the pleasure with something else. You grew used to taking both my things after all." He chuckled lightly and I balled my fists in anger

Just like that.

He turned his back on me, casually, like he hadn’t just peeled me open with a few words and left me standing there, raw and flushed and burning from the inside out.

SHIT!!!

And I—

I bit my lip. Hard. I shouldn’t go to him. I put up the distance between us, so I shouldn’t do this!

But

The heat inside me surged, angry and desperate and helpless. My body didn’t care about pride or logic. It ached. My blood felt thick, hot, every breath like a flame down my throat.

He was leaving.

The room felt colder the second he turned.

Without thinking—without letting myself think—I moved.

My hand shot out and grabbed his arm, fingers wrapping around the fabric of his shirt, knuckles white. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast long, dancing shadows across the bedroom wall. The space was thick with anticipation, the air heavy with something more than just the faint scent of sandalwood and smoke.

He turned to look at me, a little shocked. I stared up at Drakkar and without warning I reached up, my fingers curling around the collar of his shirt, and with a swift tug, I pulled him down to me and planted my lips on his

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t resist. Instead, he lowered his head, his lips crashing against mine. The kiss was fierce, a clash of lips and tongues, a battle for dominance. I could feel the rumble of his growl in his chest, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through my body. I reveled in the sensation. He bit my lower lip, hard, drawing a gasp from me. Then his tongue swept in, invading my mouth, exploring every inch of it. I moaned, the sound muffled against his lips. His tongue twined with mine, a dance of passion and lust. I could taste him, a mix of smoke and something darker, something that was uniquely Drakkar.

I reached up, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He growled, the sound vibrating through my body, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he deepened the kiss, his slit tongue delving deeper into my mouth. I could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, matching my own. I could feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his grip.

His eyes never left mine, a challenge in them. I met his gaze, unblinking. Then, he moved, his other hand cupping the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that was nothing short of consuming.

His lips were firm, demanding, and his tongue invaded my mouth with a hunger that made me groan. I could feel the rumble of his growl in his chest, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. His lips left mine, trailing kisses down my jaw, nipping at my earlobe before whispering in my ear.

"Do you want this, Ariston?" His voice was a low growl, a command, a threat.

I could only nod, my body already aching with need.

Drakkar’s hand slid from my neck, down my chest, teasing my nipples through the thin fabric of my top. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my veins.

He grabbed the top and tore it off of me. His hands roamed my chest, his fingers tracing the lines of my muscles, his touch firm and claiming.

I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrists, pinning them behind my back with one hand. His other hand grabbed my chin, forcing my head up, exposing my neck. His lips found the pulse point, sucking and nibbling, marking me. My breath hitched, and I could feel my cock straining against the zipper of my pants while at the same time I felt myself get wet too.

Drakkar’s grip on my wrists tightened, and he pushed me onto the bed, his body covering mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and I bucked up, seeking more friction.