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"You could have done that the moment we entered this damn shelter," I snapped, realisation dawning on me while Hendrix began tugging the buttons of my tunic open.
"I could do many things at any given moment, lightwing. You only have to ask me nicely and any one of your dreams might come true."

"You could have done that the moment we entered this damn shelter," I snapped, realisation dawning on me while Hendrix began tugging the buttons of my tunic open.
"I could do many things at any given moment, lightwing. You only have to ask me nicely and any one of your dreams might come true."

He was so close, his body so much bigger than mine, his presence so powerful I thought I might suffocate beneath the weight of it.
But instead of drowning on each inhale I took of him, I was finding myself intoxicated by that same madness he claimed to be suffering in my presence because I still hadn't withdrawn, and now I was thinking about his mouth too.

"You shouldn't say things like that to me," I said.
"I know. But I find my tongue loosens around you in the most maddening of ways. You're a splinter which keeps working its way deeper and deeper beneath my flesh. I'm struggling to figure out a way to remove you - and finding I keep forgetting that I'm supposed to want to do so."

"I can't stop staring at your mouth," he said in a low growl which had every thought in my mind scattering. "All the damn time. When you curse me, when you spit at me, even when you drive me utterly insane with your constant cleverness. It's infuriating."

"Your hair rather suits you like that," I commented, the brightness of it catching my gaze again. "Your beauty was obvious before, but that strength you possess wasn't. I see it more clearly now. The glimmer of magic upon you was all it took to unveil it."

If the boon was to be mine, I had to try harder with her and truly win her onto my side. The truth was, I needed her. For more reasons than just the Dragon - though the spirit's aid would make it all the more likely that we would survive this cursed place and make it to the Great Elm.

"If you can't, then we're all fucked, aren't we, pretty human?"
"Stop calling me that," I griped.
"If you didn't like it, your pupils wouldn't dilate the way they do each time I bring it up."
"That's contempt," I hissed.
"Oh? So you feel no surge of heat within your veins when I tell you how very captivating I find those violet eyes of yours to be?"

Arguing with Hendrix was like screaming into the wind. It got me nowhere and only left me festering in my own vexation.
Still he closed in on me and still I refused to turn and look at him. I knew he wanted to rattle me, knew he enjoyed the game of tormenting me and wanting to gain a reaction. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of earning one.

"I came here to focus."
"Are you calling me a distraction?" he teased, inching closer, his steps silent but presence pressing.
"Yes."

I could feel him prowling closer all the same. His presence was like a weight in the air which made my skin prickle and senses heighten. Perhaps it was my instincts warning of a predator at my back, but it was impossible for me to not know when he had entered a room.

she tore her gaze from the window, nodding and striding back toward me, thrusting her hands into mine.
She really didn't need to do that. But as she moved closer, I didn't let the words of protest pass my lips. I drew my little human into the cage of my arms and devoured the warmth she offered, not daring to let myself wonder why I didn't ever want to let go.

"The point is, life and loss go hand in hand. But between it all, there's hope. Hope for better days. Hope for things that were lost to be found again."

A fire started up in my skin that had everything to do with the way she touched me and there was no denying how enraptured I was by her.

She returned, hesitating for a second and then kneeling beside the bath and dabbing lightly at my wounds. I stared at her face, rendered silent by the sudden contact, the closeness of her somehow making the pain more bearable. Her eyes never left my wounds as she worked, washing then rinsing and repeating, and my gaze never wavered from her in kind.

I hadn't removed his shirt so that I could become distracted by the allure of his powerful body. It didn't matter how attractive he was. He was still a beast no matter the frame his monstrosity was packaged in.

My gaze flicked to the tattoo which framed his eye for the space of a blink before I snatched it away again. Lying there he looked too fragile, too perfect, to be worthy of the insults I flung at him. It wasn't right that he was so beautiful. His face was a lie. Hell, his body was a masterpiece of deception too.

The Dragon may not have been mine, but the human was. And I would defend her with everything I had left.

She had no idea what strength she now held and perhaps it was better not to let her know. With the Dragon answering her whims, she wasn't just a match for me, she was a match for every Champion between these trees.

Look at her, with her pearlescent silver hair, gleaming with hints of teal when the dying sunlight hit it just so. Why had she been marked like this, I did not know. But it suited her somehow, the way it flowed around her shoulders and gave her a magical quality. I'd never seen a human possess any such thing. Her fragility was mirrored by power.

"Pretty thing, if only you knew..." I captured her chin between
my finger and thumb.
"Knew what?" she asked, her voice a rasp, a plea and a demand.
"What a monster I can be."
"I'm still not afraid of you, Hendrix."
"Then you are a fool."

I moved closer, close enough that her back pressed to the cave wall. I had her cornered but she didn't try to run, and maybe I was deranged by all the years I had spent alone, but I could have swom she was looking at me the same way I was looking at her, drunk on the energy in this place, and perhaps on each other in some confounding way.

A spirit was close, its power so thick and so omnipotent that it made the hairs raise along the back of my neck. But nothing called my attention more than the human right then. Her dark hair was wild about her shoulders, her eyes full of unspent life, so bright they almost burned.

Our laughter fell away and I stepped closer to her, drawn to her inexplicably as magic pulsed around us in the air.

"You do scream so prettily, lightwing. I believe every feral beast in this forest may be drawn to the poetry of your cries. And I intend to be waiting in the shadows when they arrive."

But that smirk revealed a slight imbalance to his smile, a dimple in his right cheek, a glint of something wicked in his green eyes, real feeling behind the words, even if that feeling was cruelty.

He was Fae, so of course he was beautiful, but until that moment all of his expressions had seemed forced, like he was a vessel void of true emotion, a statue with a breath of life within him, the artist who had carved him too caught up in creating perfection in his lines to waste time on offering out any humanity.

His lips curled with amusement at the change in my tone, and for a moment, I was startled by the difference that small smirk made to his cold features.

His boots thumped slowly across the floor, his pace a prowl, his aura oppressive. It was like the air itself was shifting aside to make room for him as he entered, knowing that it was nothing in comparison to him. He oozed power like a physical force, its weight cloying, suffocating.

"Has no one ever told you that its foolish to run from a Fae?" he rumbled, his low baritone sending a tremor of fear through my flesh.