There was a time when Sasha Arkhangelsky believed there was something fundamentally broken in her.Not her ambition—no, that had always burned bright and cold, forged in gold and glass under the Arkhangelsky name.Not her beauty—glamorous, disarming, and inherited like a weapon.But her body.The vessel that refused to feel.
She had tried everything. Men. Women. Toys. Chemistry. Therapy. All the "right things."And yet, nothing. A numbness in the place others called desire. A silence where there should've been symphonies.Doctors had called it Hypoactive Sexual Desire Disorder.Sasha had simply called it punishment.
But no punishment lasts forever.And monsters don't just disappear—they return, when the time is right.
He returned.
In the soft hush of her luxury office, scented with oud and ambition, she met him again. A man with a name like slow thunder: Sebastian De Sanctis.A stranger with eyes that weren't quite human, and a touch that burned through the frost she had carried for decades.
He touched her, and her body answered. Not with confusion. Not with shame.But with need.
She didn't remember him.He remembered everything.
From the kiss in the dorm room, to the kiss on battlefields in a life no longer written in history books. From centuries past, when she was still Arkhaangel, the fox-hearted warrior and he, the dragon bound to her fire.
Now, in this lifetime, she was the CEO of a global empire.He, the intimacy coach who wasn't just a man—but something more. Something ancient.
And something in Sasha's blood—long buried—was waking.
Because desire, real desire, isn't just physical.It's ancestral.It's divine.It's dangerous.
And this time, the dragon wasn't asking for her permission.