i've never fallen from quite this high; Reia

[Pteron]

finger trips across my cheek----------------
----------------kiss me until i can't speak

His efforts to fan the flames are visibly successful; Reia’s blue mane flares as her movements become stiffer and her sky-blue eyes brighten and flash. Pteron can feel his own pulse somewhere near the back of his throat, a jackhammering of trepidation as he waits for the explosion that he knows is inevitable. She says his name, the sound sending an involuntarily shudder down his blue spine, even as he forces himself still at her growl. He knows what that growl means, knows that he will not be leaving this encounter without new scars

He will take them, and do so willingly, if it means that she will leave everyone else out of it, if it means she will focus her rage solely on him. That would be worth it, Pteron thinks, and it keeps him still even as she rebuts his naming of her as a broodmare. If only it could be that simple, if only the child she carries were his alone. Pteron has no idea how to be a father, but he doesn’t need to, at least not to know that he will be a far better parent than the golden monster who threatens to destroy his life.

Reia lunges, her sharp teeth ripping through the soft hide of his neck. The coppery smell of blood blossoms around them and Pteron grunts, pulling away as bet he can without moving his feet. Doing that would only makes her angrier. She calls them distractions, worms, as though Aegean is not worth ten thousand of her, as though his heart does not beat faster for Aquaria than it ever has for the dragon that snarls in front of him.

Pteron knows that showing his own anger is dangerous, but there are some things worth the fire that he knows is coming. The muscle in his neck has already begun to knit together, but it still stings as he takes a step forward, raises his head so he can look down at her, his pale wings half-flared in a threat. “If you harm a single hair, you will regret it.” The stallion breathes against her cheek, knowing that she will take the words for acquiescence as much as the threat they are. Let her think that he would be as possessive a husband as she means to be a wife. If that keeps her from burning them alive, that will be enough. 

It won’t though, that he knows all the way to his core. If he denies her now, she will hunt them down. If he denies her in the future, she will hunt them down. She might even hunt them down just as a precaution to ensure he doesn’t deny her. 

“You will never be a good wife,” he tells her, even with the furnace of her breath against his chest. “But you will be my wife, and neither of us will touch another.” He’d meant the words to sound firm, a command from a husband to his wife. And they do – he prays she’ll listen to that even if not to reason – yet what he has promised weighs far heavier than he’d expected. Pteron knows he will keep his word. He breathes in the acrid smoke smell of the mare in front of him, and sighs.

-- pteron --

@[Reia]
Okay time for babies !!!