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A Cold Grip.

Auteur: Pr3shy V.
last update Date de publication: 2026-08-17 02:03:14

~ Theron ~

A faint gasp cut through the sound of the howling mountain gale behind me.

I stopped on the steep stone stairs, my heavy boots crushing the ice beneath my soles. When I turned around, I saw the pale girl tilting backward. Her knees had given out completely. Her silver hair flew around her face like a cloud of spiderwebs, and her blue-gray eyes were wide with pure terror. Below her lay sixty feet of jagged, frozen rock edges.

I did not think. My arm shot out like a striking viper.

My
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  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    Dream of the Primordial Beast.

    ~ Nerrissa ~The dark room smelled of burnt pine wood and dry stone.I sat alone in a vast sea of pitch-black mud. Cold water crept up past my ankles, soaking through the thin hem of my nightgown. High above me, there was no sun, no moon, and no sky. There was only a heavy ceiling of cracked black granite, dripping with thick, steaming water that hissed whenever it hit the mud.A heavy vibration moved through the dirt beneath my bare feet.It was not an earthquake. It was a pulse. A slow, thumping rhythm that made the bones inside my shins ache.The sound of iron chains echoed out of the dark. The links were massive, each one thicker than an old oak tree, covered in glowing golden writing that burned with harsh, white sparks. The chains stretched across the cavern, pulled tight against tall pillars of solid obsidian rock.Beneath those chains, the continent moved.A mountain of dark scales rose from the mud. The beast was so large that its spine seemed to scrape the bottom of the worl

  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    Locked In the Dragon's Grip.

    ~ Theron ~The iron latch clicked shut behind Lucien, leaving the sanctuary in complete silence.The room was vast, dark, and cold. Only the dying red coals inside the stone fireplace gave off light, painting the obsidian walls in dull shades of rust and shadow. I stood frozen in the middle of the floor. My hands, still stained with dried red patches from my attempt to wipe the blood from the sheets, hung limp at my sides."Her human body cannot hold this magic much longer, Theron," Lucien had said before I forced him out. "If her power breaks out fully... it will destroy her from the inside."The High Mage's words still rang inside my skull, loud as iron hammers on an anvil.I turned slowly toward the massive bed.Nerrissa lay crumpled in the middle of the white silk mattress. She looked impossibly small, like a broken doll discarded after a battle. Her long silver-white hair spilled across the pillows in tangled, messy waves. Her skin, usually pale as winter snow, was flushed with a

  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    The Sickness Awakens.

    ~ Nerrissa ~The heavy oak doors of the master sanctuary shut with a deep, dull click.Theron did not set me on my feet. He carried me across the dark room, his boots thudding softly against the thick fur rug. His arms were locked tight around my back and knees, hard as iron bars. He reached the wide bed and lowered me down.His large hands did not drop me. He eased my shoulders onto the soft white pillows with slow, measured care. He pulled his hands back, his jaw tight, his molten gold eyes scanning my face."Do not move from that mattress," he commanded. His voice was a low, rough rumble."I am not trying to run, Your Grace," I whispered. My throat felt dry, like rough sandpaper. "My legs would not carry me two steps anyway.""Good. Save your strength." Theron turned toward the entrance, his broad shoulders blocking the lantern light. "Selene!"The side door opened an inch. General Selene stood in the gap, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. "Sire?""Take forty guards," T

  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    The Command At the Table.

    ~ Nerrissa ~The entire banquet hall was dead silent.Three hundred dragon warlords, nobles, and armored guards stood frozen along the long wooden tables below. Nobody laughed. Nobody clinked a silver cup.Near the stone steps of the high dais, the heavy iron doors still vibrated. Theron did not look at the empty doorway. He did not care that a noble lady had flown away in shame.His molten gold eyes looked only at me.With his right hand, Theron reached past my shoulder to the heavy silver platter resting on the center table. The plate held sweet red mountain plums, fresh figs, and dark purple grapes brought from the southern orchards. His long, calloused fingers picked up a single slice of fresh golden melon. It dripped sweet juice, smelling of summer honey and cold spring water. It was completely clean, far away from the poisoned venison Seraphine had sent to choke my lungs.Theron brought his hand back. He held the fruit less than an inch from my lips."Eat," he commanded.His vo

  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    The Scent of Dragon Fire.

    ~ Nerrissa ~The clatter of Lady Seraphine’s fork striking the stone steps sounded like a hammer hitting an anvil.Before anyone could draw breath, a massive hand reached out. Heavy bronze fingers wrapped around the back of my chair, dragging it across the floor with a harsh screech of wood against stone."Theron—" I began.He did not answer with words. Theron rose from his seat, towering over the table like a jagged cliff. With a single, effortless pull, his arm hooked under my knees and his broad hand clamped around my ribs. He hoisted me clean out of my chair.A collective gasp ripped through the three hundred nobles below.My breath caught in my throat as my world tilted. One second my feet were touching the floor, and the next, I was dropped directly onto the solid muscle of his lap."Stay still," Theron growled against my hair.His voice was a deep, physical vibration that passed straight through my chest. His dark-armored left arm banded across my waist like a bolted iron bar,

  • The Dragon's Fragile Bride: His to Possess    Whispers At the Head Table.

    ~ Theron ~"Answer me, Nerrissa," I said.My voice was not loud, but it cut through the noise of the hall like a dull blade scraping over stone.Beside me, the girl pulled her hands back into the folds of her dress. Her knuckles were white. Her blue-gray eyes looked at the roasted meat, then up at my face. She did not point a finger across the room. She never did. Even with poison sitting two inches from her lips, she kept her chin up and her mouth shut."A kitchen boy brought it," she whispered. Her voice was raspy, dry like autumn grass. "He said it came from the lower pantries.""You are lying," I told her."I am not lying, Your Grace.""You are leaving out the name," I said.I picked up the silver fork from the wood. With one flick of my wrist, I poked the roasted venison. The meat parted. A thick, dark liquid seeped out from the center, pooling in the red gravy. Where the juice hit the white porcelain rim, a sickly gray film separated and floated on top. It smelled like sour copp

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