Chapter 7: The Third Claim – The Dragon Lord.

The heat struck first, a brutal, searing wave that washed over Seraphina, making her skin prickle and her breath catch in her throat.

Not the teasing, insidious warmth of Rael's illusions, nor the cool, calculated restraint of Kier's dominance. This was something else entirely.

It was raw. It was brutal. And it burned, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path.

Seraphina barely had time to react before the temperature of the chamber spiked, the very air crackling with unseen energy, a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The scent of scorched earth filled her nose, thick with embers and something primal, something untamed and dangerous.

Then he stepped forward.

Orin. The Dragon Lord.

He was nothing like the others. Kier was dark precision, Rael was temptation, but Orin? He was war incarnate, a force of nature unleashed.

Towering, muscles cut from stone, his body was built for battle, for destruction, a walking weapon. His skin was marked with deep crimson scales that glowed faintly like molten rock, veins of fire running just beneath the surface, a tantalizing glimpse of hidden power. He had the sharp, angular features of a beast barely contained in human form, and when he exhaled, smoke curled from his lips, a testament to the raw power that simmered beneath his skin.

Seraphina's pulse quickened, her heart racing against the heat he brought with him. She had faced plenty of dangerous men, but Orin? Orin was a different kind of beast.

His eyes—golden, slitted, utterly inhuman—locked onto hers, a predatory gaze that made her breath catch in her throat.

Seraphina's pulse pounded against her ribs, frantic against the chamber's stillness. But she didn't step back. Couldn't. Something deep inside her—something primal—held her in place. A primal connection that resonated deep within her bones.

A pull, an ache deep in her bones, like she had always been meant to face him, to stand against his raw, untamed power.

His gaze raked over her, unreadable, assessing, a slow, deliberate caress that made her skin burn.

His gaze moved over her like he was undressing her with those eyes. The heat between them wasn't just from the fire—no, it was something much more dangerous. Something savage.

Then—without warning—he lunged, a blur of motion, a force of raw power unleashed.

Seraphina rolled—just in time. Orin's fist shattered the stone where she'd stood, the chamber quaking, the impact rattling through her bones.

"Holy fuck". she muttered, eyes wide. This was going to be a hell of a fight.

Orin didn't hesitate. He was already on her again, a blur of power, forcing her on the defensive, his movements swift and brutal.

"Fight back," he growled, his voice a taunt and a challenge, like he was testing her. Judging her. Deciding something.

Orin didn't hesitate. The beast inside him was unleashed, and he was already back at her, relentless. His movements were swift and brutal, like a predator. There was no seduction in the way he moved—no calculated, teasing power like Rael's or Kier's cool control. Orin's attacks were raw, unfiltered aggression.

She had no choice but to meet him head-on.

She dodged a second strike, using his force to propel herself into a spin. Her leg shot out, aiming for his ribs. He caught it with ease, like he was expecting her move. And then, with a powerful yank, he pulled her toward him.

"Damn," Seraphina grunted, twisting in the air, using the momentum to break free. She landed in a crouch, breathing heavily, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, her crimson eyes flashing with defiance.

Orin's grin was savage, a flash of white teeth against the heat. "Good. You've got fight in you."

Seraphina wiped the sweat from her brow and glared up at him. "I'm just getting started."

Before she could react, he was on her again—relentless. His strikes were calculated, forceful, brutal. Too strong. Too fast. Each hit was an attempt to break her, and gods, it almost worked.

His hands were like iron, gripping her waist, her wrists, pinning her in place. Heat radiated from his skin, searing through the thin layer of her clothes, but she forced herself to focus. Move. Think. Fight.

There was no seduction in his attacks, no teasing, no hesitation. He fought like a beast unleashed, like the dragon inside him demanded her submission, a raw, animalistic energy that made her want to claw and bite and tear.

Seraphina refused to give it. She met him blow for blow, matching his strength with speed, his raw aggression with calculated precision. They clashed again and again, until her skin was slick with sweat, her body screaming from exertion, her breath ragged, a mix of fear and anticipation gripping her.

And yet, the heat between them only grew, igniting a dark, forbidden desire.

Every time he grabbed her, every time she slipped from his grasp, every time their bodies collided, a spark ignited, a raw, animalistic energy that made her want to scream and surrender all at once.

It was a different kind of battle—one fought on instinct, on something primal and unspoken, a dance of raw power and untamed desire.

Finally, he moved too fast, a blur of motion, a force of raw power unleashed. He caught her wrist, twisting her effortlessly and shoving her back against the stone wall, the impact jarring her senses.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and suddenly he was there—towering over her, his body pressed flush against hers, his hands braced beside her head, trapping her against the cold stone.

Her heart pounded in her chest, faster than it should have been. The heat radiating from him was unbearable, a searing wave that made her skin burn. His chest rose and fell heavily,each breath an inferno of desire that clung to her skin. His golden eyes dark with something almost dangerous, a predatory gleam that made her breath catch in her throat. The weight of him against her, the proximity, was a pressure that left her breathless.

The tension snapped taut, electric, wild, a raw, animalistic energy that made her want to claw and bite and tear.

Orin inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring, his breath hot against her skin. "Do you feel it, little queen?" His voice was rough, edged with something possessive, a low, guttural rumble that vibrated through her bones. "The fire?"

She did. It coiled in her belly, liquid and consuming, a dark, forbidden heat that spread through her veins.

She swallowed hard, refusing to look away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her weaken. "I feel nothing."

A lie. A blatant fucking lie, a traitorous whisper that echoed in the charged silence of the chamber.

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Liar."

His fingers skimmed down her arm, slow and deliberate, leaving trails of fire in their wake, a teasing torment that made her want to scream and beg all at once.

She clenched her jaw, refusing to react, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her weaken.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You can fight it all you want, but you will give in," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive growl.

Seraphina's nails dug into her palms, a desperate attempt to regain control. "You think I'll submit to you?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom.

Orin chuckled darkly, his breath scalding against her skin, a low, guttural rumble that vibrated through her bones. "No." His lips ghosted over her throat, a phantom touch that made her skin prickle. "I think you'll match me."

Her heart slammed against her ribs, a frantic rhythm against the stillness of the chamber. He wasn't demanding submission. He was demanding a queen who could stand beside him, a partner in raw, untamed power.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, and for a moment, everything else faded. She had been ready to fight. To resist. But now... now, something inside her wanted to test him. Wanted to see just how far she could go.

And then, before she could react, before she could even think about the fire racing through her veins, Orin pulled away.

The air between them felt colder suddenly—empty.

Seraphina exhaled sharply, a sigh of frustration and longing. Her body screamed for more, for him to finish what he started. But he just stood there, smirking, his golden eyes filled with a dark satisfaction.

Orin smirked down at her, smug as hell, his golden eyes glinting with dark amusement. "You're not ready yet."

She hated how much she wanted to grab him, to make him finish what he started, to surrender to the raw, untamed power that he ignited within her.

Orin gave her one last hungry look, his lips curving into something dangerous. He just turned, walking away, the heat of his presence fading with every step, leaving her cold and wanting.

"Soon, little queen," he called over his shoulder, his voice a low, guttural rumble that vibrated through her bones. "Soon."

Then he was gone. Taking the heat with him. Leaving Seraphina cold, shaking… and furious. Furious at him. Furious at herself. And furious at the way her body still burned for more.

END OF CHAPTER 7