"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
He comes to her without beckoning. She is his favorite drug, his addiction, his obsession. The scarred lips trail along the curve of her lovely hip, tucking against the hollow of the bone for but a moment to place a soft kiss before moving along the edge of her spine, strong and steady as it holds the weight of her reign.
A soft tug of her skin by stained teeth, her perfection dwarfing the ugliness of his body, the touch of his tongue to ease the soft sting of his possession of her. He would never speak it, never ruin her image, but he would damn sure well claim her as his own behind closed doors and silken bed sheets. "Nayl." The groan, the strain in his voice, as he longs to melt into her skin. "I miss you." He allows the words to split his lips, owning his misery for once and allowing her to hear it. He hates that he is distant and gone most days, weaving his way through the brush and splintered rocks of Nerine. If he is to serve her then it is best for him to stay away, to not distract her from her throne. He was her guard, sworn on the day she had first invited him to the seaside kingdom.
He knows he should pull away but the feral beast inside him growls with curled lips and dripping teeth. The dark stallion restraints but curls against her body, reveling in the heat of her painted skin. Heavy lids close over his pewter eyes as she inhales her scent, listening to the pound of his heart in it's bone cage to touch the woman who owns him.
She is standing in front of his cave when he finds her lost in a daze of memories. With him so often gone, Nayl finds herself alone most nights curled against the dank walls of the cavern, nestled into the embrace of his familiar scent. Tonight, however, she merely stands at the mouth with her fiery eyes staring into the black abyss. The moonlight almost gleams on the porcelain patches of her coat, the ocean humming deeply behind her. Hearing the music of nightfall almost masks the sound of his looming footsteps until he is just near enough to breathe across her skin. She doesn’t yet turn to look at him. Her eyes slowly blink and her head lowers. Nayl knows it’s him by the way he slips his lips to her hip then up along her spine and eventually her cheek. His husky voice whispers her name. Only then do her eyelids lift so that she may look into his eyes.
”Lior,” she says tenderly as the wall she has spent years forging from the world crumbles. The world sees her as an iron queen, a conqueror with fire in her eyes and ice in her voice. To him, however, she is but a woman caving into the foreign world of love. What had begun as a resent toward Stillwater has blossomed into something much greater than she expected. When their eyes meet, she melts, and the stony exterior that she shows to the world falls to her feet like a loosened dress.
A smile lifts the straight line of her lips when she hears his confession. She returns it with her own. ”I missed you, too,” she mutters into the symphony of the night while pressing her cheek against the broad plane of his neck. ”I do hate it when you must go,” a whisper that flutters just barely past her lips, barely audible over the lull of the tide. The admission is almost strained, afraid of letting him sink deeper into her heart. Although she may try to fight it, it’s ever futile.
”I don’t understand how you’ve done this to me,” a little smile, an airy chuckle, ”I never thought myself capable of ever falling for someone or being a mother.”
He would never breathe a word of the way she arches to his touch or the tenderness that makes her voice grow husky. This Nayl was meant for him and him alone. The rest of the world could have the powerful painted queen but this gentle, loving, doe-eyed woman was his and he would protect these moments with tooth and nail for they were his lifeblood and the only means of his existence.
The return of her words make the mass of his heart beat like a caged bird, fluttering and wild. he can only sink deeper into her mane and close his eyes to the ugliness that swelled around them. Nerine could fall into the sea like Pangea, Sylva and Tephra could burn to nothing more than ash and bone but as long as he had Nayl at his side he could care less. Lior's voice speaks her name like distant thunder as his body intertwines with hers. "Never did I think I would ever be so worthy of you." He peels away achingly to meet her gaze with his own as the sincerity fills his eyes like captured raindrops. The woman does not know of the years prior to their meeting and he would only ever tell if she asked.
He would do anything she wished with only a few simple words.
Lior knows that their children are off. Isobell growing more beautiful by the day and Castile, soon to be a gladiator, he is sure. The dark male had already marked his dissolve once the boy was strong enough to replace him as his mother's guard. Despite it all, the dragon stallion never quite felt like he deserved her. Perhaps he felt as though she pitied him the day she brought him home, hungry, wet, angry. But Lior pushes it all away as she feels the haggard edges of his lips curl into a smile for his queen, his love.
She had been the only one to make even a ghost of a smile touch his cruel mouth. 'I do not like being away so often." He states lowly, pewter eyes rolling away for a moment and taking a breath before continuing. "I think it may be best for me to stay closer to you. The children need me." He would never say that she needed him. No, because deep down he knows that she does not but for now the stallion is pleased to abandon his cave and the outskirts of his sea salt home to take up residence with his queen. The passed few years have left him desiring nothing more than the warm embrace of her beautiful arms every night.
