Hey guys. This is a general heads up/content warning.

This chapter contains an explicit sex scene. If you are reading this , you are consenting that you are at the age of 17 and above as per the guidelines.

Here is a quick link to the content guidelines if anyone needs a reminder: https://support.wattpad.com/hc/en-us/articles/200774334-Content-Guidelines

Thank you

~

Rhia sat on the edge of the enormous bathtub in Nolan's bathroom and ran the water as hot as she could handle. The scent of vanilla and lavender wafted from the bubbles foaming up from the water. Next to that container was a bottle of woman's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Right next to the tinted windows was a vase of white lilies, her favourite flowers, and a stack of thick, fluffy towels. Candles lined the countertops and shelves, casting the room in a dim, warm light, greatly appealing to her still pounding head.

She had searched every inch of this bathroom the last time she was here. His towels were old and worn, probably the same towels he'd been using for the last ten years. There hadn't been any bubble baths or salts, he only had men's shampoo, and not a single sign of candles or any kind of romantic touch. He'd done all of this with the hope of her coming back for another night. Damn that man! How was she supposed to be upset with him when he does this?

She slowly lowered herself into the enormous tub and tilted her head back against the edge. The hot water chased away the cold and eased her aching muscles and joints. The tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since the helicopter melted away. The sharp stabbing in her temples was reduced to a dull pounding.

A few minutes later, Nolan walked in carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine. He had lost his shirt, and his jeans hung low on his hips. The man was a god, wrapped in a fine layer of powerful muscles, but didn't have the weird dehydrated bulgy look. He took good care of himself. She liked that.

Her last, and only, adult relationship had been fraught with issues, even before he put his hands on her. Church functioned on an as-needed schedule. He didn't do laundry until he was completely out of underwear. He only washed dishes when he needed the dishes he washed, and he usually relied on takeout or microwaved meals anyway. When she had moved in, they'd had several conversations about how they were in an equal relationship. They both worked long hours in their industries, so they would need to be adults and divide up the work. Yet, somehow, she still managed to do everything around the house.

She wouldn't have to do that with Nolan. It felt so right to be here with him, even though they still had a lot to talk about.

He sat down on the step of the bathtub and placed the glasses down with a soft clink. "This bottle," he said quietly. "Came from a tiny little village in the Beaujolais region of France. At the time it was sold at the equivalent of about twenty dollars a bottle. Now it is worth over a thousand. It is worth every penny."

He popped the cork and poured her a healthy glass. "Are you trying to butter me up?" she asked with a smile and took the glass.

"You requested wine older than you." He winked. "This was bottled in nineteen-ninety."

She took a tentative sip, and a sigh escaped her lips. "Alright. You can join me."

He chuckled and rose to strip out of his pants. She watched his every move. God he was handsome. He slid into the water behind her and she relaxed against his hard body, letting her head rest on his shoulders. One of his arms snaked around her waist while the other stroked her hair. She could stay like this forever. "I know you have questions." He said softly.

She didn't answer right away. She was exhausted. A part of her just wanted to forget all of this had ever happened and move on. Have a nice night with a nice glass of wine and the finest piece of ass she had ever met. But if there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was that problems didn't go away if she ignored them. "What does Yfeerie mean?" she finally asked quietly.

"That... depends on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

He let out a weary sigh and drank heavily from his wine glass. "The fae and dwarves, therefore the rest of the world, thinks it's an elven word. The elves think it is a dragon word." His words were slow, contemplative, and he spoke in a way that made her think he was getting lost in the memories. "They know it's old, and they think it is a lost honorable title from the world before there was anything but dragons and their kin. They know the dragonkin call me Yfeerie, so they do as well. They also know that since the dragons honored me with a title, it would be extremely dangerous of them to refuse me reasonable requests. More dangerous than refusing even Constantine."

"How? He's your king. And isn't he... you know... sleeping with one of them?"

"Constantine has the reputation of a spoiled brat. He makes demands he has no rights to make. He's had the shadow of Luna behind him for so long that he forgets that Luna doesn't actually hold much political power. Physical power, absolutely, and the other races are careful about making militaristic threats against him. But when it comes to political favors and making allies, they can virtually ignore him. I, however, have favor from Quin."

His casual use of the dragon's name made her shudder. His grip tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Quintiles," he continued gently. "Is a lot less impulsive than Luna. He plays the political game. He's patient, incredibly loyal to his kin, and, when he needs to be, he's deadly. Atlantis was a part of his territory before it fell. They correctly assumed that I had better leverage against them than Constantine. But they were overall wrong about what a Yfeerie is."

He sighed again and lifted the bottle to refill both their glasses. The conflict in his voice was evident. Suddenly Rhia wasn't sure if she wanted him to tell her anything. This was the point of no return. She put her wine glass down and turned to sit in his lap. His blue eyes shimmered in the low light. "You don't need to tell me." She said softly. "If you don't think I'm ready, or if it's better I don't know..."

He let out a strained laugh and reached up to stroke her cheek gently. "Rhia," his voice was slow low she just barely heard him. "What I'm telling you balances the line between fantasy and absolute madness. I don't want to tell you, because it's a lot to believe and it's a lot to ask of you so early into knowing each other. But I can't... not tell you either. There is a loud part of me that wants to tell you everything about me and my life over the last twenty thousand years. It is a lot to hear... but I don't want to hide from you."

Rhia wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard. His arms tightened on her waist and crushed her against his chest, meeting her kiss with a desperate need. Her stomach was in knots as she met his eyes. There was nothing but pure affection in his beautiful blues. "What does it mean?" she whispered.

"Yfeerie isn't a title." He said breathlessly, a tremble in his words. "It's what the kin call their halflings. My mother was a wyvern. My father was a human noble."

Rhia's jaw fell open. The water felt icy and the world around her fractured. "You're... dragonkin?" she gaped.

"No. I am a vampire." She flinched at how harsh the words came out. He forced a breath and gulped down some wine. "How much do you know about the kin when they're young?"

"Not a lot, honestly. I know they don't have much magic as kids and they're not able to turn."

He nodded. "Pure-blood kin hatch in their dragon skins. After a few years they shed that and take on their humanoid forms, lose the majority of their magic and are vulnerable. It's why they're so heavily protected. What you did tonight for those kids will put the kin in your debt for the rest of your life. Yfeerie are similar in that we hatch in our skins and turn human after a while. The difference is that we lose all our magic. We don't even have the eyes to be identified as kin. Instead of being essentially human, we are entirely human until we can turn again. And it takes a lot longer for the yfeerie to regain their power. Instead of late twenties, it was suspected that I would be able to turn again in my late thirties or forties. It didn't matter... I never made it to thirty.

"There were territorial fights between the human clans at the time. I was travelling between my home and the city proper, foolishly believing I was untouchable given my human title and my connections to the dragons. There were deserters on the road, and they panicked, thinking my group was coming to arrest them and drag them back to the front lines. My men were killed, and I was seriously injured. Standard human care at the time wouldn't have saved me, but under the care of the dragonkin I would have survived. Constantine found me first. He thought the same thing as the elves. He had no idea what I was. We were friends and he thought I was dying. So, he turned me."

"Oh my god." She breathed. "Nolan, I-"

"I have had the last twenty thousand years to forgive him. I have. But being around the kin is hard. My connection to them is lost."

"You lost your family."

He looked at her. There were tears in her eyes, but a level of understanding he had never seen from anyone. For fuck's sake, of course, she would understand. His heart felt raw with emotion. He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her hard against him, crushing her mouth with his. "I don't deserve you." He breathed.

"Let me be the judge of that." She whispered back.

Nolan lifted her effortlessly from the bath, her legs wrapping tight around him, and carried her into the shower. He pressed her hard into the wall before turning on the tap, pelting them with warm water and washing away the bath suds. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her, tilted her hips with the other, and guided his rock-hard erection into her. Rhia threw her head back and cried out in pleasure. He thrust into her with hard, powerful strokes, his mouth at the crook between her neck and shoulder.

A screamed ripped from her throat as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She thrashed wildly against him and the wall, thrusting her hips to meet his. He never stopped, relentlessly fucking her, not willing to stop until he found his own release. He needed her. It was a deeper need that purely physical. Every moment he spent with this woman he felt closer to who he was truly meant to be.

He ran his tongue across her neck, tasting her, and froze over her carotid artery. Her pulse was rapid from pleasure and exertion. His own excitement for the blood and the kill grew. He fought to keep his blood lust under control and keep his fangs from descending. "Nolan," she panted. He tore his eyes from her throat to look up at her. She was watching him with heavy eyelids. "Come back to me." She whispered. He blinked, realizing that he had stopped moving. She tugged at his hand holding her wrists and he released her. She took his face in her hands and pulled his lips back to hers. "Focus on me."

He did. He looked deep into her vibrant green eyes, heavy from lust and sparkling with affection for him. Her soaking wet hair was plastered across her face and down her shoulders. Gods, she was stunning. He started to move inside her again, pulling a soft moan from her lips. He continued to focus on her beautiful body. The delicate curve of her nose. The sultry way her mouth opened to gasp and whimper. Her strong legs around his hips as he pumped into her. Her strong, comforting hands at his face.

Her second orgasm threw him violently over the edge. He slammed into her once more and kissed her hard, muffling her scream. Another wave of magic, stronger than the first time, exploded outwards, evaporating the water around them in a flash and casting them in a thick fog of steam. Once again, the blood lust vanished, and he let his head fall against her shoulder. He was sure that the magic was coming from her. But he had no explanation for it. What the hell was she? What wouldn't show up on the heritage tests?

Slowly he lowered her onto her feet, not letting go until her legs stopped shaking. "You... felt that, right?" he asked softly.

"Mind-blowing pleasure?" she looked wearily up at him with a loopy smile on her face.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. That was a resounding no, but he didn't need to push her on that yet. He left her in the shower to finish washing up so he could drain the tub and take their wine to the bedroom. She joined him as he was lighting candles around the room. "A little mood lighting?" she teased, sliding into the bed on her stomach.

"I'm having some wiring problems up here. It's not just the bathroom anymore." He looked up and groaned at the sight of the goddess stretched out on the mattress. "God damn," he breathed. "You have no idea how beautiful you are."

"I am actually quite aware." She laughed and sat up onto her knees. She braced her hands on his shoulders and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Her eyes met his. "Thank you."

He cocked his head. "Why?"

"For trusting me. You didn't need to tell me any of that."

"I need you to hold onto that feeling of appreciation. Just think about how much you like me and how good I make you feel." She narrowed her eyes and he winced. "You protected two dragonkin hatchlings today and you're dating me, someone Quin still sees as kin. Congratulations, Rhia Kincaid, you are now an honorary dragonkin."

She blinked and then laughed. "Good one." She chuckled and flopped back into the bed.

"I'm not joking." He followed to lean over her. "The dragons take something like that seriously."

"I remember having a normal life once."

He raised a judgmental eyebrow. "I call bullshit."

"Fair enough. I just like to assume I was normal before I was abandoned."

He brushed her hair out of her eyes and kissed her gently. "Have you ever considered hiring a private investigator to look into them?"

"I did." She shrugged. "Maddox bought a house with his inheritance. I spent mine on school and a P.I. He couldn't find anything."

Nolan held up two fingers. "You had an inheritance?"

"Madeline is very good at what she does. She was successful long before she married Richard. I honestly don't know what she sees in the guy."

He put a finger down. "Your father works in government and your godfather is a police captain. Why didn't they look into it?"

"They did. Before all the adoption paperwork went through, they looked into every legal, and probably some illegal, avenues. The P.I. was supposed to pick up the loose strings along the less-than-legal areas."

"And they didn't find anything?"

She shrugged again. "At the time it had been thirteen years. Now it's been over two decades. I doubt there's much anyone can do."

Nolan was quiet for a few minutes, watching his fingers brush the skin over her collar bone. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"It's Thanksgiving so dinner at two, football at four, and endure drunk relatives until six. What about you? Do ancient Atlanteans celebrate the colonization of a country that was totally discovered by a confused Italian looking for spices?"

"Cam does. He and the kids are coming over tomorrow night. You should... join us."

"You want me to meet your family?"

"It was his idea. It's not going to get any less awkward, so might as well do it now."

She sat up to lean against the headboard and pulled her knees up. "Sure. Why not. I'll come by as soon as I can get away from my family."

"You don't have to if you're not comfortable."

"It's not that..." she hesitated for a second. "I've never dated a guy with kids, let alone grandkids. I don't really know what to even think. How do I act? What do I say?"

"All you need to do is be your adorable self."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But there better be another bottle of that wine tomorrow."

He crawled up the bed and between her legs to kiss her. "Your wish is my command, pet."

~