Chosen by the Beasts, Claimed by the Dragon-Chapter 35: Starlight

— ZORYN —

The six of us found a small clearing on the outskirts of the festival grounds, where we decided to lie on the ground for a while. We have all been mostly silent, even Roan, since we got here; the excitement of the day must have worn us all out.

...Actually, I think Roan is asleep. I can hear the faint sound of his steady breathing next to me—a sound I’m very familiar with.

We’ve been staring up at the sky for so long that I lost track of time—it isn’t until Orien speaks that I realize we’ve been out for a few hours.

"We should probably get back to our lodgings," the avian says softly. "It’s nearly two in the morning, and we have to pack our things in the morning."

"Ugh..." Roan groans, stirring awake slightly. "Whoa, where are we?"

I scoff, "You always sleep so deeply. Good morning, nerd, we were stargazing, and you fell asleep."

"...Oh, right—Moonfall," he mutters, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Miss Champion."

"That’s me!" I chuckle, "Buuuut... Orien is right. We should all probably head back."

"I’m pretty tired," Riven yawns in agreement.

Ashen hums, "I should go back. I have things I need to do before bed."

I slowly push myself up, my muscles aching in protest. After fighting so hard this morning and spending the day celebrating, I haven’t really had a chance to rest my tired bones.

Sylas lifts his head from where he’s been draped around my neck, blinking slowly and languidly like a cat who’s been dragged out of a nap.

"Are we leaving already?" he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

"Yes," I say flatly. "Because some of us have responsibilities."

"I have responsibilities," Sylas objects.

"You have drama," I counter.

Riven snorts quietly beside me. "That’s the same thing, snake."

Sylas’s tail flicks against my shoulder in irritation. "I am shocked you’d insult me at a sacred festival," he says, then yawns so wide I swear I can see his fangs glint even in the dark. "How rude."

Orien dusts leaves off his robe, then offers me a hand up without thinking twice. His touch is warm, careful, familiar now in a way that makes my chest feel strangely full.

"Are you sore?" he asks quietly, concern soft in his voice.

"A little," I admit. "Mostly proud-sore."

His lips twitch like he wants to smile. "That’s fair."

Ashen rises too, stretching his shoulders with a quiet grunt. He glances around the clearing once—protective instinct still lodged in his posture like a blade in its sheath. "We should head back before the elders start doing rounds," he says. "They’ve been tense all day."

"Gee, I wonder why," Roan mutters and rubs his eyes. He looks at me blearily, then points at my face. "You still have snack crumbs."

I swipe at my mouth reflexively. "I do not."

"You do," Riven says calmly.

I glare. "Traitors."

We start walking back as a group, the grass whispering under our feet, the air cold and sweet with midnight dew. The festival grounds are quieter now, most lanterns dimmed, most revelers tucked away into their lodgings.

Everything feels... soft and pleasant. However, the moment I step into the first trail of lanternlight, I feel it.

That tug.

That strange, magnetic pull at the edge of my senses, and the mark on my neck warms faintly against my skin like it’s waking up.

Ren.

My heart gives the most ridiculous little jerk in my chest.

Gods, I’m annoyed at myself.

I glance back at my friends. Orien is quietly talking to Roan about some kind of feather oil and why avians can’t use standard beast grease without ruining their wings. Roan is listening with the earnest seriousness of a bear receiving holy scripture.

Ashen and Riven are arguing in low voices about who had the better match today.

Sylas is half-asleep on my shoulder again, pretending he isn’t listening to everything.

They’re fine, safe, and content. They’re... mine. In a weird, new way.

But Ren’s presence is calling me with that soft pressure on my spirit, like a hand at the small of my back.

I swallow. "Hey," I say suddenly, stopping. "I’m gonna... go take a walk."

Four heads whip toward me at once, but Sylas lifts his head immediately, eyes narrowing. "A walk."

I shrug. "A walk."

Roan squints at me like he’s trying to interpret ancient runes. "At two in the morning."

"I’m the Moonfall Champion," I remind him. "I do what I want."

Riven crosses his arms. "Do we need to follow you?"

"No," I say, maybe too quickly. "No, I’m fine. I just... can’t sleep yet."

Orien looks hesitant, but he nods. "Alright. Don’t go too far."

Ashen watches me for a long moment, eyes sharp and wolfish, then he dips his head in reluctant acceptance. "Five minutes," he says. "If you’re not back, I’m coming to find you."

I smirk at him. "Try not to sniff the air like a freak when you do."

He grimaces. "I’m learning."

Roan points at me accusingly. "You better not be going to do something stupid."

"I’ve literally never done anything stupid in my life," I lie.

Roan huffs. "That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told."

"You guys don’t want to follow me, I’m off to see my mate," I announce, to which all of them deflate a little, but none are openly disappointed or upset.

Sylas slides off my shoulders and returns to his human form. I wave them off and turn, letting my instincts guide me away from the main path—back toward the outer edge of the festival grounds, where the lanterns grow sparse, and the trees stand thicker.

My mind feels... ticklish, in some freaky way. It’s the only way I know how to describe it. As I get closer, my stomach flips like a fucking teenager.

Then, the moment I step into the darkness between lanternlight and forest shadow—he’s there.

Ren stands half in the trees, half in moonlight, like the darkness was made for him. His long hair is loose, dark strands falling over his shoulders like ink. His horns glint faintly, and although his wings aren’t out, there’s a tension in his shoulders that only comes after a long flight. Dad gets it all the time.

His violet eyes lock onto mine, and everything in me goes still. "...There you are," he says quietly.

I blink, suddenly weirdly shy. "Hey."

Ren’s gaze drags over me in a slow sweep—my face, my shoulders, my bare midriff, the place where Sylas had been curled around my neck earlier.

Something ugly flashes across his expression for half a heartbeat.

Jealousy.

Then it’s gone, replaced with something warmer.

"You were with them," he says.

"Yeah," I answer. "We were stargazing."

His jaw ticks. "You smell like grass."

I laugh softly. "That’s... usually how stargazing works."

Ren steps closer, the movement natural and smooth—like gravity. When he stops in front of me, I can feel his body heat.

I tilt my head up. "You disappeared."

His gaze drops. For the first time since I met him, he looks almost... guilty.

"I had to," he murmurs. "I’m sorry."

That catches me off guard—he’s... apologizing? How come? I would ask further, but the look in his eyes is telling me he isn’t ready to talk about it—whatever it is—yet.

So, since I don’t know what to say to that, I take the coward’s route—I point at him. "You."

Ren lifts a brow. "...Me?"

"I need to pierce your tongue," I announce.

Silence. Ren stares at me like his brain just stalled, then a look of realization settles on his face.

Before he says anything, I shrug like this is totally normal, and I don’t feel like my heart is trying to kick its way out of my ribs. "You agreed to it earlier. You said I could."

His throat bobs and he exhales a small, disbelieving laugh—like he’s relieved I’m being weird instead of serious. "I did," he says. "I just forgot you were going to do it tonight."

"Well," I say, stepping closer. "I’m doing it tonight."

His pupils dilate. "Zoryn," he murmurs, voice dropping into that low tone that makes my body remember things my mind can’t.

"Don’t start," I warn, but my voice is too light to be a threat.

Ren’s mouth curves fondly. "Come with me," he says, turning slightly.

"Where?" I ask, already following.

Ren glances back at me over his shoulder, violet eyes bright. "Somewhere private."

Excitement runs down my spine, but I wordlessly follow him. We walk into the trees, deeper into the quiet, until the festival sounds fade completely and all that’s left is the night: crickets, rustling leaves, the whisper of distant wind.

Then he stops beside a small, shallow stream—water glittering under moonlight.

Ren kneels and reaches into a satchel I didn’t notice earlier. He pulls out a small bundle wrapped in cloth, then carefully lays it on a flat stone like he’s preparing a ritual.

My brows lift. "You came prepared."

Ren glances up at me. "I didn’t know if you’d actually want to do it."

"...But you hoped," I say.

He pauses. Then, quietly: "Yes."

I crouch beside him, heart beating too hard. He unwraps the cloth to reveal several small items—a needle, a ring, a clean cloth, and a tiny vial. Lastly, he pulls out a gem piercing that looks exactly like mine—except it’s made of ruby, not amethyst.

Actual preparation; it’s very responsible of him. I didn’t think this far ahead—he was right to do it, though, since I can’t wield magic in the same way he does. I wouldn’t be able to perform the spell properly, I’m sure. So, the old-fashioned way is the one for me.

Ren shifts his weight, then looks at me like he’s bracing himself. "If I flinch, don’t laugh at me."

I stare. "You’re scared?"

His nostrils flare slightly. "No. I’m... cautious."

"That’s scared," I smirk.

Ren’s eyes narrow, but, as if he’s decided he’d rather die than let me win, he sits back against the stone, legs stretched, posture loose.

"Do it," he says, voice calm but eyes burning. "I won’t flinch."

"Okay," I say, suddenly very aware that this is... intimate as hell.

I kneel between his legs without thinking.

Ren goes still as I pick up the needle, the metal catching the moonlight.

"Open," I order.

Ren obeys immediately, parting his lips and revealing his long tongue—the one that was all over me, inside of me, last night.

My entire brain blanks out.

Oh my gods.

This is insane.

I’m insane.

Ren’s gaze stays locked on mine, unblinking, like he’s letting me do anything I want—like I could ruin him and he’d say thank you.

I steady my hand. "Last chance to back out," I say, because I’m merciful.

Ren’s voice is low. "Don’t give me mercy."

... 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Okay.

Cool.

That was hot.

I hate him.

I take a breath, focus, and press the needle through, and, unlike he suggested earlier, Ren doesn’t flinch or even make a sound—but his pupils dilate so wide I can barely see the violet.

The moment it’s done, I quickly thread the jewelry through and secure it, my fingers moving fast and sure like I’ve done this a thousand times.

When I finally pull back, Ren exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tight, eyes half-lidded.

"Well done," he murmurs hoarsely, the praise making my chest warm.

I grin. "You’re welcome."

Ren’s gaze flicks to my mouth, and his tongue shifts slightly, testing the piercing.

A metallic click.

My spine lights up like someone struck flint against it.

Ren watches my reaction, and his expression turns... pleased.

Not smug—no, possessive.

Quietly victorious.

"You like it," he says.

I glare. "Shut up."

Ren laughs under his breath, then reaches forward—slowly, like he’s giving me the chance to deny him. He brushes his thumb over my lower lip. The touch is so soft and careful.

"So," he murmurs. "Do I get anything for being brave?"

My breath catches, and I swallow hard, but I refuse to act ’demure’ or whatever—that’s not me.

"Like what?" I ask teasingly.

Ren’s eyes burn brighter. "I want you to kiss me," he says simply. "On purpose. While you’re awake. Without your heat influencing you."

My heart thunders. Normally, I would say something snarky or maybe tell him to stop being dramatic.

Instead, I lean forward... and kiss him.