Chapter Three: Bound by Fire
1148 Words
Elira didn’t sleep.
How could she, after what had happened in the tower? After what Dain had done—after what she had done?
She could still feel the press of his hands on her waist, the ghost of his lips against her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back there, caught in the heat of it, his breath against her throat as if he had been ready to devour her.
And she had let him.
No—she had wanted him.
A foolish, reckless desire that could cost them everything.
The bells had broken them apart last night, but the damage had already been done. She had seen it in his eyes, the same war raging inside her now.
And yet, here she was, slipping through the darkened halls of his tower once more, her breath tight in her chest.
Because despite every warning in her mind, despite the threat of execution if she were caught…
She couldn’t stay away.
The door to the study creaked open.
Dain was already there, standing by the open window, looking out over the city. His tunic was unlaced at the throat, his sleeves rolled up, the candlelight casting golden shadows over the hard lines of his face.
He didn’t turn when she entered, but she felt the air shift.
He knew she was here.
Elira swallowed, gathering her courage. “You left me waiting.”
Dain exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “I shouldn’t have sent for you.”
“But you did.”
Silence.
The wind stirred outside, rustling the heavy curtains.
Dain finally turned, and when he met her gaze, something inside her twisted.
His expression was unreadable, but there was tension in his shoulders, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He looked… hungry.
Not for food.
For her.
“Elira,” he said, voice low, rough. “This is dangerous.”
“I know.”
His jaw clenched. “Then why are you here?”
Her heart pounded. “Because you didn’t tell me to stay away.”
Something snapped.
One moment, she was standing across the room. The next, Dain was on her, his hands gripping her waist as he backed her into the wall, his body pressing against hers.
Elira gasped, but there was no fear. Only heat. Only want.
Dain’s lips hovered just over hers, his breath unsteady. “I should tell you to leave.”
Her fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic. “Then do it.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he crushed his mouth to hers.
It wasn’t slow this time. It wasn’t careful.
It was fire, consuming them both.
Elira’s hands tangled in his hair as he pressed her harder against the stone wall, his body pinning hers. His kiss was desperate, claiming her with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine.
His hands roamed, fingers skimming the curve of her waist before sliding down, gripping her thighs.
Elira gasped against his lips as he lifted her, pressing her further into the stone, his strength making her dizzy. She wrapped her legs around him instinctively, her body melting into his.
“Dain,” she breathed, head falling back against the wall.
He groaned, his lips trailing down her throat, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that sent fire straight to her core.
“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured against her pulse.
Elira shivered. “But you do.”
His grip tightened. “Gods help me, yes.”
She exhaled shakily, her fingers slipping beneath the open collar of his tunic, tracing the warm, hard muscle beneath. His breath hitched at her touch, and it thrilled her—to have this effect on him, a man who was supposed to be untouchable.
“Elira…” His voice was strained, as if he was fighting himself. “If we do this… there’s no turning back.”
She met his gaze, their faces inches apart. “Then don’t stop.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes. A final thread snapped.
Dain moved, carrying her from the wall, crossing the room in a few quick strides before lowering her onto the worn wooden desk. Papers scattered to the floor, forgotten.
He followed her down, his body pressing into hers, his lips claiming her again.
Elira gasped as his hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress, fingers tracing up the soft skin of her thighs. Every touch sent sparks racing through her, every kiss fanned the fire burning between them.
And god, she wanted this.
She wanted him.
But then—
A sudden knock at the door shattered the moment.
Dain froze.
Elira’s breath caught, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“My lord?” a voice called from the hallway. “The Council has summoned you.”
Elira’s eyes went wide.
Dain cursed under his breath, his hands still gripping her.
They were seconds from disaster. If the door opened—
Dain moved, pulling her against him as he murmured an incantation under his breath.
The air shimmered, and suddenly, the shadows around them deepened, wrapping them in darkness.
Elira held her breath as the door creaked open.
A young apprentice peeked inside, squinting in the dim candlelight. “My lord?”
Dain’s grip on Elira tightened.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said, his voice steady, betraying none of the fire that had been there moments ago.
The apprentice hesitated, then bowed and shut the door.
Silence.
Elira let out a shaky breath. “That was too close.”
Dain’s hands were still on her, his body still pressed between her legs, and even in the dark, she could feel the heat of him.
He let out a rough chuckle, his breath warm against her temple. “You think?”
Elira swallowed hard, her fingers tightening in his tunic.
She should move. She should put distance between them before this went too far.
But the way he was looking at her, the way he was breathing—
He wanted more.
And so did she.
“Dain,” she murmured, her voice softer now, uncertain.
He traced his fingers up her arm, slow, deliberate. “This isn’t over.”
A promise.
A warning.
Elira shivered. “Then don’t make me wait.”
Dain’s grip tightened once more, but this time, he pulled away, stepping back with visible restraint.
“Stay here,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll be back soon.”
Elira exhaled, watching as he ran a hand through his hair before moving toward the door.
He hesitated just before leaving, his jaw tight, as if it physically hurt to walk away.
Then, without another word, he was gone.
Elira sat there on the desk, her skin still burning, her heart still racing.
This was dangerous.
This was forbidden.
And yet, she had never felt more alive.
- Writer
