The dragon to be // House of dragons

25

Content Warning: This chapter contains explicit and intimate scenes. Reader discretion is advised.
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Raina wove her way down the gilded halls, her heart pounding a fierce rhythm in her chest. She halted before the door she'd been seeking, her breath hitching as she grasped its handle. With a resounding creak, she pushed the door open, failing to announce her presence with a knock.

Inside the room, the air was heavy with steam, and in the center of it all was him, languishing in the bath. With a swift, decisive move, she shut the door behind her, the click of the lock echoing ominously within the marbled walls.

"Raina," he registered her presence, his gaze trailing after her as she moved with measured steps, the hem of her dress brushing the cold floor. She came to a halt beside the bath, sinking into the chair that sat next to it.

"Where is Wyrion?" He asked, his eyes never leaving her as she traced her fingers over the surface of the warm bathwater.

"He's with grandfather," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The corners of his mouth twitched upward as she leaned over him, her fingers threading through his hair, dampening the dark strands.

"In the dining hall?" he questioned, his gaze following her every move as she began to wash his hair. Her only response was a hum, her attention focused on the task at hand.

She rose from the chair, her dress swaying around her as she circled the bath. Her fingers moved deftly, untying the laces that held her dress together. The garment was held in place by her grasp, revealing her bare back adorned with intricate designs.

"I need something from you, Daemon," she spoke, her voice echoing in the silence of the room. The dress slipped from her fingers, pooling at her feet. "Well, two things," she added, stepping into the bath. He shifted, making room for her.

"And what is that?" His voice was low, curious. She moved, straddling his lap, her lips brushing the nape of his neck before whispering into his ear.

"I want you to make Rhaenyra name me as heir." His body stiffened under her, but she held him in place, her fingers tangling in his hair. An involuntary shiver ran through her as she felt him respond to her. "And I want you to pledge yourself to me."

His reaction was swift. His hands found her neck and the back of her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You ask for a lot, Raina," his voice was a low growl. He pulled her closer, his eyes dark with desire. "I can tell you've never been dominated by a man before...mmm...the things I could do to you."

She gasped as he lifted her, their bodies aligning perfectly. His words were cut off as he thrust his hips upward, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips. His grip on her tightened as he moved within her.

"It will be done, Raina," he promised, his voice strained as he guided her movements. "And this should tell you something." His hips drove upwards, eliciting a gasp from her as her fingernails dug into his wrist. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken promises and hidden desires.

Their bodies moved in a rhythmic dance of urgency and need. Raina's mind was consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—desperation, determination, and a hunger for power. As Daemon thrust into her, the physical tension between them mirrored the intensity of their desires.

Moans and gasps filled the room, mingling with the sounds of splashing water and their skin slapping together. Raina's nails dug deeper into Daemon's wrist, a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through her veins. She rocked her hips against him, meeting his every thrust with fervor, her body aching for release.

Daemon's grip tightened on her, his touch possessive and commanding. He reveled in the dominance he held over her, relishing in the way she responded to his every movement. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, they understood each other's deepest desires and vulnerabilities.

Sweat glistened on their bodies as they pushed each other to the edge, straining for the ultimate climax. Raina's breath hitched, her body trembling, as pleasure overcame her in waves. She clung to Daemon, her cries of ecstasy mingling with his own guttural groans.

In the aftermath, they remained entangled, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding in unison. Raina's mind was consumed by a mix of satisfaction and uncertainty. She had laid bare her desires, her ambitions, and now it was up to Daemon to fulfill his part of the bargain.

As their breaths slowed and their bodies cooled, they untangled themselves, their gazes lingering with a newfound intensity. Raina reached out, her fingers tracing the contours of Daemon's face, her touch filled with a mixture of tenderness and expectation.

"It will be done, Raina," Daemon finally spoke, his voice husky and filled with a promise. "I will make Rhaenyra name you as heir. And as for pledging myself to you, consider it done."

A flicker of relief and triumph flashed in Raina's eyes, but a lingering question remained. "Will you truly give yourself to me, Daemon?" She searched his gaze, seeking the truth behind his words.

He held her gaze, his expression unyielding. "I will give you my loyalty, my strength, and my unwavering support. But remember, Raina, power comes at a price."

Raina nodded, a flicker of determination replacing any hint of doubt in her eyes. She understood the sacrifices that lay ahead, the challenges she would face. But in that moment, as she sat beside Daemon in the stillness of the bath, she knew that she had taken the first step towards her destiny. And she was ready to embrace it, no matter the cost.

Raina's patience had run dry. No longer content with the trivialities of courtly affairs, she was a woman on a mission. A mission to prepare for the impending war that loomed on the horizon. She had grown tired of being told what to do, tired of being underestimated. Now, she was determined to seize control, to do whatever it took to secure her rightful place.

With a fierce determination burning in her eyes, Raina knew she had to go beyond the boundaries of conventional means. There were no limits to what she was willing to do, no depths she wouldn't plunge into. She would manipulate, scheme, and seduce if it meant achieving her goals.

Every move she made was a calculated step towards her ultimate objective—the Iron Throne. Raina refused to merely participate in the game; she would dominate it. She became the embodiment of the game itself, a force to be reckoned with. The fire that burned within her fueled her ambition, while blood would be shed in the pursuit of power.

She was no ordinary dragon; she was THE dragon. The one destined to scorch her enemies, to leave a trail of destruction in her wake. The time had come for Raina to unleash her true nature, to embody the strength and ferocity of a dragon. She would rise above her rivals, leaving them in ashes, and claim what was rightfully hers.

The game of thrones, once a mere plaything, had become her battleground. Raina would no longer be a pawn; she was now the queen who would dictate the rules. Her adversaries would tremble before her, their futile attempts to halt her progress only fueling her determination. The iron throne was her birthright, and she would not rest until she sat upon it, commanding the Seven Kingdoms with an iron fist.

With unwavering conviction, Raina prepared to play the game of thrones like no one before. Her allies would rally to her cause, drawn by her magnetic charisma and unwavering resolve. Those who stood in her path would be crushed beneath her boots.

Fire and blood would be her weapons, scorching the earth and staining it crimson. No mercy would be granted to those who opposed her. Raina had shed her former self, embracing the darkness that lay within. She had become the embodiment of ambition, the personification of power.

And as she stepped onto the battlefield, her eyes ablaze with determination, Raina knew that the game of thrones would never be the same again. She was ready to conquer, to rise above the chaos and forge a new era of dominance.

The game had begun, and Raina was the player to beat. The Seven Kingdoms would tremble in her wake as she carved her path to victory, leaving no stone unturned and no soul unscathed. The sound of clashing swords and the cries of battle would be her anthem, echoing through the halls of history.

For Raina, the game of thrones was not a mere game—it was her destiny, her legacy, and she would stop at nothing to claim it.