She corrects him almost without thinking, shaking her head. “Not greedy—just a predator,” her eyes are sharp on his face, studying the handsome, strong lines of it. “There is nothing greedy in wanting what is due to you. In wanting the world that has been laid out before you. In relishing in your strength.” She does not understand the faeries—has never understood these entities that stand so haughtily over the rest of them, that judge and take more than they give—and she certainly does not understand them now.
But she knows who he is, dragon or not, and it changes nothing for her.
“There is nothing prey about you,” she laughs, pressing her lips to the broad width of his forehead, pushing the bronze, tangled locks of his forelock to the side. “You could never be prey.”
She doesn’t mention the concern that blooms in her chest when she realizes that the dragon-protected home of theirs is suddenly not so protected, but she says nothing of it. It was nothing that he himself did not already know, did not already fret over, and her mentioning it would not bring about a solution.
Besides, she didn’t consider them exactly unprotected.
There were more monsters in their caves than just him.
But such things melt to the side as the two of them curl around one another. His gentleness teases the same from her, even as it brings out the sharpness of her own brand of affection. She nips at the velvet of his mouth, placing kisses against his cheek even as she trails sharpened teeth against the flesh.
“Never apologize to me,” she growls lightly—never regretting how long it took them to arrive at the place where they now reside. “And never apologize for feeling incomplete when a limb is torn away from you.” Curling into his side, she tucks her head underneath his neck, pressing her sharp kisses to his chest.
“We’ll find a way to get it back.”
well, I can try to get you closer but I know you’d break your neck just to see the stars
and if we don’t dare to hold it then this reckless wandering love was never ours