It was the height of mating season for all mythical creatures a time when instincts burned hotter than reason, and the boundaries between species blurred into nothing. The air itself felt charged, pulsing with a primal energy. Many roamed in restless search of a mate, but none inspired more awe… or fear… than dragons.

When the season claimed them, they surrendered to a single, all consuming drive: to claim, to mark, to breed.

You were no dragon. You were human fragile in a world of claws, fangs, and fire. Last season, everything had changed when Kaelith, alpha among dragons, had claimed you. His choice bound you to him beyond flesh, beyond law, beyond anything you’d known. Though he could have taken another mate, he hadn’t. His eyes, his hands, his hunger they were yours alone.

Now, you lived with him in a timber and bright cave that you had decorate and add doors to making it look like a house at the heart of the dragons’ village, surrounded by the hum of wings and the roar of forges. Tonight, you sat by the fire, the scent of spiced herbs and roasting vegetables curling through the air. The glow of the flames painted your skin in warm gold as you stirred the pot. That was when you felt it a shift in the air, a shadow falling over you.

Heat pressed against your back as strong arms circled your waist, pulling you into the solid wall of his chest. His lips brushed your neck slow, deliberate sending a shiver racing down your spine. Then came that scent: deep, intoxicating, heavy with the unmistakable heat of the season.

“Stop cooking,” Kaelith murmured, his voice low and rough with need, each word vibrating against your skin. His teeth grazed your pulse, his breath burning hot against your ear. “You know what time it is… don’t you?”