Chapter 3: Ch.3: Love is possession

:: Quinn POV ::

I knew he would come. Lately he's been coming more often, like he couldn't bear to stay away.

This is an affair, a silent promise between the two of us that no one really understands. And for the past years, I've been keeping this secret; basking on his warmth whenever he comes to me. For years, I allowed the obscure situation to continue, to slowly tear at me each and every time he leaves me.

Some nights, I cry and silently scream for relief. And some nights, I cry and silently scream from the overload of happiness. But most nights, I cry and scream because I cannot tell the difference anymore.

"Quinn..." He called out hoarsely and I smiled in greeting, I couldn't help it. After all these years, I still love the sound of my name on his lips. I reached out for his hand, curling our fingers together before lightly tugging him forward.

"Come inside." I invited softly. "Tell me how you're doing. What's got you worried?" I slowly guided him forward to sit on the couch, bolting the door and drawing the curtains close. Since I didn't bother to turn on the lights earlier, the darkness didn't bother me and I knew it wouldn't bother him.

I felt him restlessly stir from where I left him. He slowly made his way towards me and hugged me close from behind. Then started trailing soft kisses on the back of my ears and neck.

"Quinn," he uttered desperately. "I need you!"

"I know." I turned and pulled his head towards mine. Our lips met, molded. The move was so natural, practiced, it brought tears to my eyes. Our breaths mingled until we're in perfect sync. His tongue entwined with mine slowly, deliberately. He carefully explored the depths of my mouth as we tangled with each other on a slow dance that only we shared.

I felt his hands slide underneath my shirt. My skin slowly burned as he explored every curve and valley of my body. I buried my fingers on his thick hair, gently massaging his scalp and pulling him closer, soothing him.

"Quinn!" He moaned on my lips, clawing at me, desperation and aching need replacing his leisurely caress. "Quinn!"

"Hush..." I whispered, tracing feather-like kisses on his face. "Don't rush, love, we have time."

I kissed him deeper, longer, bringing our bodies closer together. He removed my shirt and tossed it somewhere on the floor. I held him close, a bit worried. Something must have happened for him to fret like this.

I slowly broke the kiss. He protested and tried to capture my mouth once more. But I gently shushed him and brought his forehead close to mine. I gently hooked our hands together, fingers entwined, like always, and guided him to the bedroom.

I closed the door behind us and once we were locked in the sanctuary of my room, I allowed him to do as pleases. I granted him freedom I've never allowed anyone before. I bared my body and soul to him.

One thing I learned, over the years, is it soothes him to do what pleases him when he's in this kind of mood. He's reaffirming himself, calming his nerves. Silently confirming the fact that I was there and so was he, that he's mine and I am his.

After he discarded his clothes and removed the rest of mine, he gently pushed me to the bed. He crawled over me, putting all his weight on his arms and knees. Then leaned forward to thoroughly kiss me, growling deeply when I wrapped my legs and arms around him.

Gad! I love the feel of his skin against mine, hard and strong muscles and velvety warm skin. In all respects, he's bigger and stronger than me. He could easily overpower me if he wanted to. But, as always, he held back and caressed me slowly, delicately. He held me like I was the most precious person in his life, someone he couldn't bear to hurt or live without. And I loved him more for it.

Falling in love is like losing a part of yourself. A part that you give away to your lover, a part that gives way in order for him to embed himself deep within you. When you find the 'one', you lose all sense and reason. His voice, his breath and his every touch, his very being would slowly drive you insane.

Honestly, I don't care if I lose my mind. If it's because of him, I'd gladly go crazy. I'd happily chop off pieces of myself to make way for him, to have him under my skin and wrapped around my body. I'd melt and disappear within him because he's all I ever wanted and all I'll ever need.

I returned a kiss for a kiss, a touch for a touch. I relished the feel of his body beneath my fingers and the taste of him in my mouth. I treasured every caress, every whisper and every breath we shared.

I treasure every moment I spend with him because I know, at any given time, all this, whatever we have at the moment, could easily disappear. Every stolen night I spend with him could be the last night we share. And tomorrow, he might not come again.

I reached out and pulled his face close to mine as he gently nudged my legs apart. He settled in between, molded our bodies together. He reached for my wrists and planted light kisses on my palms before clasping our hands together, tightly. I know he'd never let go, not for now. It was both a test of trust and a show of faith.

He gave me another deep, searing kiss as he slowly nudged at my entrance. I quietly whimpered at the invasion but gradually gave way. This is my man and my mate. I'd give him everything he desired and more. I would never deny him anything, most of all I would never deny him access to my body. He is mine and I am his. It was meant to be.

I felt him shudder as he seated himself fully within me. He kissed my forehead tenderly, waiting for my body to adjust to his size before moving steadily. His thrusts were sure and confident, hitting the sacred spot that only he knows where and how to reach.

We climbed and flew together, towards the highest peak, higher and higher still, until we couldn't climb anymore. We crested together and spiraled hanging on to each other, riding the waves of our climax to the end and beyond. And through all that we held on to each other. Our hands tightly clasped until we were brought down to earth.

It's always been like this every time we came together and it would always be like this. He held me close. After our union he would murmur sweet and loving words in my ears before falling deep into slumber with a satisfied smile etched on his lips. And once he's deeply asleep, I would succumb to my grief, to my guilt.

And I would whisper, "Forgive me..." as I listened to his silent and even breathing. Tracing the line of his strong jaw and full lips. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much…" And I would cry silently.

Lately, I've been crying myself to sleep while watching him dream. I can't help it. I am afraid. I'm about to lose him and I can't do a damn thing about it. Soon, I have to let him go. I don't want to but it's not for me to decide our fate.

:: Raziel POV ::

I jerked awake, covered in sweat and panting for breath. I could still feel warmth on the tips of my fingers and savour the sweet taste on my tongue. The dream felt so real it's almost unreal!

I looked around, nothing seemed out of order. I was in my bedroom and through the blinds, the sun was already shining. It must be late in the morning or early afternoon. I got off the bed and rushed to the adjoining bathroom. No one. Nobody was there. I slumped on the doorway and covered my face in my shaking hands.

What the hell am I doing?

"Did something happen?" Syrath asked as he walked into the room. He was looking at me with concern, again, and I hated it. I hate making him worry. I hate feeling weak and lost, unsure of what's happening.

"It's nothing," I answered, trying to calm my racing heart.

How can I tell my brother I'm chasing after phantoms and I don't mean figuratively. That weird sensation was still tingling through my senses and quietly nagging at me. I know I've been with someone but with whom? When? Where? How? Did I black out last night or did I just have a very wonderful, realistic dream? Am I going insane?

My body felt stiff and taut, like I would burst any moment. I feel like I'd lose it if I don't figure out what's wrong with me. I have to know! Whatever this is, whatever it is that's happening to me, I need to understand it soon otherwise I'd go insane! My impatience and restlessness is fueling my desperation. Normally, I feel bored and uninterested but I never felt desperate. Not much could hold my attention for very long but this, whatever this is, is turning into an obsession.

I unconsciously rubbed my chest, trying to ease the tension in my heart and noticed Syrath's scowl deepened. When I told him and Orion about my spells they didn't seem alarmed. They were interested in what I had to say, listened to how I described the experience and inquired as to what I remembered. But contrary to their lack of reaction, the two pried as much information as they could from me without being too obvious about it.

But after going through numerous and almost identical conversations over the years, by now, I've learned to recognize their sly tactics and recognize the patterns. They have an idea as to what's going on with me. The question is, why haven't they told me anything?

"Why are you here?" I asked my brother. We don't live together and it's rare for Syrath to stay over at my place. And from what I remember, we weren't together last night.

"We're meeting with Orion today. Did you forget?" He replied plainly. But Syrath couldn't hide the sudden tension that wrapped around him like a cloak as he answered my question. Something's up and it's something big. It takes a lot to agitate Syrath and for him to purposely mislead me. "Nile invited us to their place to celebrate Nuri's coming of age."

I purposely ignored what he just said and focused on observing his body language. Why would Syrath feel the need to cover up and suddenly feel uneasy? Unless…

"What's wrong with me, Sy?" I deliberately asked, aware that he wouldn't be able to answer, not truthfully and definitely not at the moment.

The situation was suddenly clear to me. Syrath knows about my situation. He knew for some time but was told not divulge anything. Why?

It is clear that the guilt of knowing the truth is tearing my brother in two. But it doesn't matter, not really. There might be special circumstances that led to the decision of keeping the information from me. But soon they'd have no choice but to tell me the truth. Because whatever it is that's making me behave this way, I cannot control it anymore. Eventually, it would break free and I'd be powerless to hold it back.

I thought Syrath would continue to lie or would come up with another petty excuse. But my brother surprised me by walking towards me and lightly grabbing my shoulder. His ice-blue eyes carefully searched mine. For what, I don't know. But at the moment, my brother looked in more pain than I was. Syrath hates keeping secrets, especially from me, the same way I am with him. Our allegiance to each other goes beyond the call of blood.

"Forgive me, Raziel." He murmured sadly as he lightly squeezed my shoulder. "I can't tell you, not right now, you understand? But trust me, it's not something bad."

It's not enough but I have to make do with those words. Just by telling me this much, Syrath is breaking an oath and violating his agreement with Orion. But Syrath worries a lot and he wouldn't do anything that would put me in harm's way. Even if I am not satisfied with how things are. I know Syrath would never agree to anything that anyone has to say if it meant putting me in danger. So for now, I have to trust my brother and wait.

I patted his hand and nodded in understanding. "I'll get dressed, give me a moment." I didn't wait for a response and directly walked inside the bathroom. Syrath would find something to do while waiting for me to be ready. In the meantime, I need to cool down my raging body.

:: Syrath POV ::

I watched in silence as my brother disappeared towards the bathroom. I walked out of his bedroom and headed towards the spacious living room. I faced the floor to ceiling windows and quietly admired the view of Saints' Isle below.

Raziel has always been fond of high places. After we learned how to fly he always had the urge to soar higher, always trying hard to break his limits. And once he reached the summit, he would plunge back to earth, on a crazy downward spiral that only he seems to enjoy.

It pains me, seeing my brother's current suffering.

When Raziel felt the resonance, five years ago, I had my suspicions. His fated mate was calling out to him but I wasn't certain so I kept quiet about it.

Raziel followed the resonance recklessly, without knowing where or to whom it would lead. It was the first time I saw my brother act that way; frantic, excited and a little nervous. He wanted to know what it was about or who was sending it. Raziel couldn't properly put it in words but I understood what he meant because I've been through it. A secret, the one and only, that I keep from my brother.

When the resonance of the mating call suddenly ceased, Raziel plunged into depression. He tried to hide it, tried to act normal. But I could see the subtle changes, the pain and longing. I didn't want to wait for him to spiral out of control and lose himself to the call. I needed help and only an elder would know what to do. So I reached out to Orion and asked for his advice and assistance.

Orion has almost a thousand years' worth of knowledge on him and I believe, whatever it is that's happening to Raziel, he had seen or known it before.

Orion was patient, attentive and kind. He listened to me, asking questions here and there. Gently prodded without being invasive. From our conversations, Orion formed a vague idea of what was going on. He urged me to take Raziel to Saints' Isle. He wanted to see and talk to my brother in person.

At first, Raziel was opposed to the idea of going to Saints' Isle. My brother has always been particular about his privacy. Seeking Orion's help would mean opening himself to strangers and divulging his secrets. But the more time we wasted arguing, the worse his situation became.

I belatedly noticed there was something special about the mating call. Normally, male dragons that are ready and able to mate would be able to hear and feel the resonance emanating from potential mates. But curiously, I didn't feel anything.

Dragons have the tendency to choose strong and powerful partners. But as Dragons Lords, Raziel and I had the ability to ignore the mating call, unlike regular dragons. If we already have a chosen female or want to mate with someone in particular, no mating call would be able to affect us and we would not resonate with anyone else.

But for some unfathomable reason, my brother cannot resist this resonance. It was as if the mating call was resonating only for him.

In the course of only a single year, Raziel went on a crazy tailspin that not even he could control. He was done, ready to crash and burn. But I wouldn't let him. I could not. Raziel is my brother, my sole blood kin and a living reminder of our parents. I would not lose him. Not that way.

When we arrived in Saint's Isle, the moment we set foot on its magical soil, Raziel had his first black out. None of us realized he was having a 'spell' until the day after, when he seemed to have no recollection of what happened. Raziel acted oblivious to everything that happened the day before and was his usual bored and uninterested self.

We were shocked. Even Orion, with his wisdom and vast knowledge, was astounded. We didn't know what it meant or how it would affect Raziel. The black out doesn't seem to be hurting him and as I told him, it wasn't anything bad. But for the time being, those of us who knew the enormity of the situation agreed to keep the spells from Raziel.

Still, I couldn't help worrying. I know my brother, perhaps even more than he knows himself.

Raziel is a proud and arrogant creature, much like myself. He's one of the last Saurian Lords in existence. Raziel, the Fire Dragon from the Imperial House of Rheinalt. The blood of our ancestors runs through his veins thicker than anyone else's, even mine. Arrogance and pride are ingrained in our bones and it's bound to our souls.

And being who he is, I don't know how my brother would react once he discovers the truth.

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