Breeder For The Villain Dragon

CHAPTER EIGHT

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The dragon's thrusts grow more frenzied. Brutal. Merciless. His molten engorged scaled dragon penis slams cruelly into Faelyn's female core with a primal intensity. 

Faelyn's eyes flutter open briefly, then close again, and a strangled pitiful whimper squeezes out of her torn throat. Her mouth is chapped and her broken nails clench against the dungeon floor, and she weakly attempts to crawl away from the cruel Dragon. 

Faelyn's mind is in a haze of pain, her body has been stretched beyond its limits in the last several hours

The dragon growls in warning, his arm encircling Faelyn's waist to yank her to meet his hard thrust. Faelyn cries out from the sheer brutality of each thrust.

Her mind recoils in horror, wondering how long she has been trapped beneath the dragon's body, but her body continues to respond, to writhe and twist beneath the dragon's touch. Her face is re-moistened by endless tears as dark clouds blur her vision yet again, and she falls limp. 

No part of her body is left untouched, she is sore and bleeding from several areas. 

The dragon's fingers dig into Faelyn's hips, firmly holding them in place as he continues to rut deeply, his cock punishing Faelyn's warm moist tight hole with reckless abandon.

His thrusts grow more intense, and the dragon feels as though he is being consumed, devoured by his insatiable hunger yet again.

As Amendiel's climax approaches, a guttural growl hisses from his mouth, and once again Faelyn slips into unconsciousness.

The prison door suddenly crashes open with a thunderous bang, and Juta enters, having defied the King's orders.

The last hours without knowing if Faelyn is alive or if she is now a burnt mess of ash and bones has driven him to madness. Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, he's come to see for himself, even if it means facing the King's wrath.

His heart pounds as he steps into the dim dungeon, dreading what he might find. The smell of dragon power still lingers in the air like smoke, and he can hear the steady drip of water echoing off stone walls.

The sight before him is revolting; the thick smell of sex oozes strongly inside the dungeon; Juta watches with grief, insane jealousy and anger clouding his mind when he sees the dragon's too-large cock pounding in and out of Faelyn's body, each thrust causes dragon liquid essence to sputter out, the wet noise is sickening. 

Bile rises in Juta's throat but he is unable to look away from Faelyn's limp and helpless form, pinned beneath the dragon's thrusting body.

Amendiel's lips twitch with a depraved smile at the sudden visitor; his thick arm snags around Faelyn's waist possessively.

He holds the visitor's gaze mockingly as he continues to thrust into Faelyn slowly, allowing the visitor to see the insane amount of seed pouring out of Faelyn's female core with each savage ram of his hips, a sickening evidence of the numerous times this half blood fae has been filled up and bred by his seed. 

The dragon's partially sated eyes drift downward to the unconscious slave as he pulls out his cock of his unbelievably still tight hole with a noisy squelching sound. 

It's a strangely beautiful sight to the fiery beast who has never thought a Fae's body could give him this much pleasure.

It must be the potion

Juta's chest swells with crushing regret. He should have been here earlier. He shouldn't have obeyed the King's command. This horror should never have been allowed to happen.

This dragon has marked Faelyn with his cursed bite! His beloved is beyond recognition, and Juta drowns in shame, knowing he has failed her completely.

Disgust, fury and guilt choke Juta's throat when he sees the redness around Faelyn's closed eyes. She must have cried endlessly. She was probably praying for someone, anyone, to save her.

The tip of her nose and her cheeks are scraped raw, red and purple marks from the beast's rough hands.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

"Tell your king that his gift is utmost satisfying..." The dragon breaks the silence; his eyes have gradually returned to their normal colour, which now regard Juta mockingly. Amendiel tucks his still partially hard cock into his breeches and pushes Faelyn's limp body to the side.

If his cock is sore from the intense rut, then the slave must be in hellish pain, not that Amendiel cares about the state of the one who poisoned him. His body doesn't feel different, rather his dragon core feels stronger, and now that the maddened haze has cleared from his golden eyes, he returns Juta's glare of wrath and disdain with a satisfied smirk.

They had both clashed on the battlefield days before, so the tension between them sizzles through the prison like dragon fire meeting ice.

'How interesting,' one of Amendiel's brows rises with dark curiosity. He doesn't miss the tender look Juta gives the half-blood.

Amendiel scoffs inwardly, his provoking smirk widening. It's obvious that this fae warrior has feelings for the slave.

Dragons have never cared for fae creatures or half-bloods, but with the slave's looks, Amendiel knows she must be quite sought after among the males, with a face and body like that, she doesn't even need magic to attract others… Although she is much too skinny 

Amendiel's eyes narrow when he suddenly notices the deep red marks on both sides of the half-blood's neck. He instantly recognizes the imprints of his fangs and the crushing realization of what he'd done.

His mark.

He had never meant to, and now this mongrel is bound to him, body and soul.

At Juta's sharp command, several guards flood into the dungeon, including Ruto, a fae warrior and Juta's close friend.

"Take Faelyn out and get her treated," Juta orders Ruto, his vengeful eyes never leaving the dragon.

Ruto nods curtly and swiftly hides Faelyn's body with his cloak before lifting the half blood from the cold stones. The hair on his neck prickles with alarm when the dragon's low growl vibrates through the entire dungeon, those molten gold eyes shooting deadly flames at him.

Juta steps forward bravely. He's not alone - several other fae warriors surround Amendiel threateningly, pulling out enchanted blades and pointing them at the dragon's throat.

Ruto's fearful gaze remains fixed on Amendiel for long moments. The fierce emotion burning in the dragon's eyes is what one can only describe as deeply unsettling - possessive, territorial, dangerous.

"Faelyn…" The name rolls off Amendiel's tongue like a growl just as she's carried from the dungeon.

Outside the prison, a healer waits - an older fae woman named Sebi. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees Faelyn's condition.

Poor child.

The frail girl is barely alive. The scent of ancient dragon power clings to her like smoke, marking her as claimed.

Amala flinches at the cruel-looking bite marks on Faelyn's neck that look as though she's been branded by dragon fire itself.

"Take care of her," Ruto commands before rushing back to the dungeon.

Inside the healing chamber, Sebi works quickly but gently. She's seen many horrors in her years as a healer, but this breaks her heart. The girl can't be more than nineteen, and already she's been marked by forces beyond her control.

As Sebi tends to Faelyn's wounds, she notices something strange. The bite marks aren't healing normally. They glow faintly with an inner heat, as if dragon fire still burns beneath the skin.

This isn't just any mating mark. This is something deeper, more permanent. The kind of bond that legends speak of - the kind that can't be broken by death or distance.

Meanwhile, back in the dungeon, the air grows thick with tension. Juta stares at Amendiel with barely controlled rage, his hand tight on his sword hilt.

"You monster," Juta snarls. "Look what you've done to her."

Amendiel's smirk never wavers. "I did what your people wanted. You sent her to me, remember?"

"We sent her to serve you food, not to be…" Juta can't finish the sentence.

"To be claimed?" Amendiel's voice drops to a dangerous whisper. "To be marked? But that's exactly what happened, isn't it?"

Inwardly, rage burns through Amendiel like acid. He's bound himself to fae blood - the very thing he despises most. The half-blood's mixed heritage makes it even worse. What he's done goes against everything his kind believes in.

"The mark will fade," Juta says desperately. "We'll find a way to break whatever you've done."

Amendiel throws back his head and laughs - a sound like grinding stone and roaring flames. "You know nothing about dragon bonds, little fae. What's done cannot be undone."

The truth tastes bitter in his mouth. He's trapped himself as much as he's trapped her.

"You'll regret this," Juta says through gritted teeth.