I do not own world of warcraft. All characters are fictional. This story contains mature themes, reader should be 18 years or older. This is a female dominant story. If you like the story please leave a review.
Chapter 10: Dominance and Devotion
The first light of dawn filtered through the slats of their room in the Drag. The faint glow bathed Zatara and Zyld in soft hues of gold and orange. Zatara stretched languidly, her silver hair cascading over Zyld's chest like strands of moonlight. Her crimson eyes sparkled with mischief as she traced idle patterns on his skin with her fingers.
"Morning, pet, hope you slept well." she murmured, her tone both teasing and possessive. She leaned close, her breath brushing against his ear before she nipped it lightly with her sharp canines.
Zyld stirred, a soft moan escaping him as his glowing green eyes fluttered open to meet hers. A blush rose to his cheeks, but he managed a smile. "Good morning, I slept very well."
Zatara smirked, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. "Good. You'll need your strength for what's to come."
After dressing and ensuring their gear was packed, Zatara and Zyld made their way to the inn stables to check on Nox. The frostwolf was well-fed and rested, his yellow eyes gleaming as he greeted them with a low, content growl.Their next stop was breakfast—a quick, hearty meal to fuel the day ahead. As they sat across from each other in the bustling inn, Zatara watched Zyld with a sharp, assessing gaze. He ate quietly, his movements measured, yet there was an air of tension about him.
"You're thinking too much," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Zyld looked up, startled. "I'm just trying to prepare myself, There's so much to do—getting ready and…"
"And you're worrying over nothing," Zatara interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. "Focus on what's in front of you, pet. Leave the rest to me."
"Understood." he replied, his voice steady despite the faint blush that crept across his cheeks.
The streets of Orgrimmar were alive with the chaotic energy of the Horde. Traders shouted from their stalls, blacksmiths hammered steel, and the occasional roar of a beast punctuated the air. Zatara led Zyld with the confidence of someone who owned the city, her crimson eyes sharp as she approached the auction house.
The goblin attendant, Zeak, perked up as she entered. "Ah, Zatara! Always a plea—"
"No time for pleasantries," she cut him off, her tone commanding. She snapped her fingers, and Zyld stepped forward, placing two large bags of herbs from Winterspring at the goblin's feet.
"Get me a good price, Zeak," she said, her voice laced with an unspoken threat. "Or you'll wish you hadn't."
Zeak gulped, nodding quickly. "Yes, ma'am. Consider it done."
The couple walked across the street towards the bank."OK now to the bank and it's greedy goblins." Zatara stated.
Zatara's sharp tone left no room for argument as she dealt with the goblin tellers at the bank. Presenting the voucher of Dante the Red and her key as proof for her huge locked trunks, she demanded a private room. Once inside, she turned and tossed a bag of coins to Zyld with a smirk.
"Hold on to this for me pet, and help me suit up," she commanded, beginning to strip without hesitation.
Zyld's cheeks burned as he averted his gaze, but her chuckle drew his eyes back to her. "Relax," she teased. "You'll need to get used to seeing me like this. Now, focus."
Piece by piece, he helped her into her Warlord regalia clothing. The enchanted blue and black cloth armor shimmered faintly, its magic palpable. When she turned to face him, she looked every bit the powerful mage she was.
"You look like… a goddess of magic," he said softly, his awe evident.
Zatara's smirk widened. "Good answer, pet. Now, let's get moving."
Zatara donned a black tabard with a red crimson web design and then wrapped herself in a black cloak. "Come." Her voice commanding. Zyld obeyed without hesitation.
Their visit to the Valley of Strength led them to a burly orc blacksmith. Zatara's commanding presence ensured her request for Zyld's armor was taken seriously. "He's too valuable to go unprotected," she stated firmly, her hand resting possessively on Zyld's shoulder.
The blacksmith nodded, agreeing to repair the armor within two days. As they left, Zyld shifted uncomfortably in his tunic and breeches.
"I feel… exposed without my armor," he admitted.
Zatara smirked, her crimson eyes raking over him. "Exposed, hmm? I don't see a problem with that. Quite the view, actually."
His face turned scarlet, and he quickened his pace, earning a laugh from her.
Their next destination was the weapons shops deep in the heart of Orgrimmar. The air inside was heavy with the scent of oil and steel, and the walls were lined with an array of weapons that gleamed under the warm torchlight. Zyld's eyes immediately locked onto a massive metal spear displayed prominently on the wall.
The weapon was stunning. Its black blade seemed to radiate an inner glow, and intricate red runes spiraled down the blade, whispering of power and destruction.
"That one," Zyld said, his voice low but resolute, his glowing green eyes fixed on the weapon. "What's it called?"
The orc shopkeeper, a broad-shouldered veteran with a missing tusk, grinned. His pride in the weapon was evident as he stepped closer. "Blackfury," he said, his voice gravelly. "Forged in the fires of Blackrock by hands older than yours. It's not just a weapon—it's a legacy. It's enchanted as well so it doesn't come cheap."
Zyld flinched unsure. But Without hesitation, Zatara paid the steep price, zyld was shocked but the orc quickly placed the spear in his hands. His hands were trembling slightly as they wrapped around the spear. The weight of the spear felt perfect in his grip, like it was made for him.
Zyld glanced at Zatara, his emerald eyes thoughtful. "What's next on the list?"
Zatara tapped a finger to her chin, her crimson eyes glinting with mischief. "Rations," she said. "We'll need dried meat and waterskins. You know what let's get some good wine as well, got to make the trip to Booty Bay enjoyable."
Zyld chuckled, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. "Lead the way, then."
Zatara grinned, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the crowded street. "Try to keep up, elf. This city's no place for the slow—or the shy."
Their banter mixed with the lively chaos of Orgrimmar as they navigated its winding paths, stopping at various shops to gather supplies. Zatara's sharp eye and bargaining skills ensured they secured quality goods, from smoked meats and sturdy waterskins designed for long journeys, evens a few bottles of wine from Silvermoon which caught Zyld, off guard. Zyld, dutifully carried their growing haul, his amused sighs earning him the occasional wink from Zatara.
Once their supplies were packed and paid for, Zatara stretched her arms overhead and turned to Zyld. "Alright, elf, let's drop all this back at the inn. Then we will go some where nice for some food, cant let my pet go hungry." Zatara winked enjoying zylds red face.
Zyld nodded with a smile his red face looking down. "Yes master." Zatara's grin got bigger.
Their errands brought them to a bustling restaurant, where Zatara left Zyld momentarily to order their meal. When she returned, she found two blood elf women hovering around him, their flirtatious giggles grating on her nerves.
Zyld looked visibly uncomfortable, his politeness doing little to deter them.
Zatara strode forward, her presence like a storm. "He's mine," she said coldly, her voice cutting through the women's laughter.
One of them sneered. "A troll? Really? A Blood Knight deserves better than that."
Zatara smirked, stepping closer to Zyld. Without warning, she grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, her dominance clear. The blood elf women left in a huff, their disdain unable to match her authority.
Pulling Zyld into a dark corner, she pressed him against the wall, her hand on his throat and her breath hot against his ear. "Who do you belong to," she demanded.
"You," Zyld said quickly. "Only you."
Her crimson eyes softened slightly, though her grip remained firm. "Good. Dont ever forget it."
"Yes, Master," he whispered, his sincerity evident.
Her smirk returned, her teeth grazing his jaw. "If we weren't in public, I'd remind you more thoroughly. For now lets get our food and go back to the inn."
Back at the inn, Zatara and Zyld dined together, the tension of the day melting into quiet conversation. She leaned back in her chair, watching him with a mix of affection and ambition.
"Soon, we'll board a ship to Booty Bay," she said. "From there, we'll journey to the heart of Stranglethorn Vale."
Zyld nodded. "I'll be ready, Master. Whatever trials lie ahead, I'll face them for you—and for Shadra."
Her crimson eyes gleamed. "Good. You're finally starting to understand your place, pet. And soon, the Widowfang will see your worth too."
As the night deepened, Zatara allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability. She watched Zyld as he drifted off to sleep, her thoughts a web of plans and emotions.
"Shadra," she whispered into the darkness, her fingers brushing his hair. "He's mine. And soon, he'll be yours too."
The path ahead was clear, and Zatara felt the weight of her responsibility—both as his guide and as his master. Whatever trials awaited, she would ensure he emerged stronger, bound to her and to the Spider Loa.
Soon their journey would begin in earnest. But tonight, she allowed herself to revel in the quiet triumph of claiming her champion.