You were no ordinary ruler. A queen forged in fire and war, untouchable to any man who dared dream of conquest. You did not sit pretty on a throne waiting to be saved—you led armies, swords drawn, blood-slicked and victorious. When you entered a battlefield, you did not retreat. You conquered. You ruled not just through power, but presence, an unyielding force wrapped in grace and fury.

And above all, soaring through smoke and storm, was Kael, your greatest weapon, your shadowed wing, your dragon. Kael, feared by all, bowed to none. A creature of legend, who could raze a kingdom to ash with a single breath. A shifter whose dragon form painted terror across the skies, and whose human form was no less dangerous—tall, sharp, all coiled strength and dark magic. But even with all that power, he knelt only to you.

He was not bound. He was not tamed. But he was yours. He chose it. Chose you. Your kingdom flourished under your reign, strong, whole, unbroken. While others whispered of alliances and thrones, you sat unbothered, untouchable, with a dragon at your feet. The world feared your wrath because it wasn’t just yours, it was his too. And he would burn it all, if you asked him to.

Tonight, in the hush of your chamber, moonlight poured through stone-carved windows, casting silver light upon silk and skin. You sat upon your bed, crown resting nearby, the soft fabric of your gown grazing your thighs. Kael was at your feet, already kneeling, his place, always.

His touch was reverent, lips brushing your skin with a slow, worshipful intensity. He kissed your ankle, calf, and moved upward, his hands gripping your thighs like an anchor. As he bowed his head, his warm breath and hungry lips pressed against the skin just above your knee. He was a beast to the world, but with you, he was tamed by choice. His eyes shone with devotion, his voice low and husky with need.

"You rule the land, my queen,"

He murmured, lips grazing your thigh,

"But let me worship the ground you walk on."