[Cover made by @Sweetishlove 😁]

Leyla

She thought she could do it.

She thought she could block out her emotions, be strong and keep her head high.

But that was before he came back to the chamber last night, smelling of her.

He hadn't spoken a word. Hadn't even looked at her. All he did was strip out of his boots, weapons and shirt and then sink under the thin covers of the bed.

Leyla had been in shock.

- Not because he wasn't speaking to her or looking at her - she was used to that by now. No, this was because of what she could smell on him. Or rather, inside him.

Her blood. The Lady Kahtrina's. He had fed from her, nourished on her blood. He had tasted her and now Leyla was invisible in his eyes. Lady Kahtrina's blood was obviously richer and more pure, better than her own. And that hurt. More than what Leyla thought was possible.

She had curled up on the bed and silently cried herself to sleep that night. She didn't know if the Dralan had heard her or if he fell asleep as soon as he landed on the pillow. She could imagine how exhausting it must be to have the whole of two females to now drink from. Oh, the struggles he was facing.

Leyla had grown bitter. She couldn't stand the sight of the Dralan anymore, didn't want anything to do with him. He had clearly written her off, so she should just do the same. He was drinking from her now, so what was the point in even trying anymore? It wasn't like he needed her, even if he said he did. He had her blood now.

Speaking of blood, that night before the Dralan had returned, Leyla had felt the stinging in her throat come back. She had been sewing when it happened and it was like someone lit a bonfire in her throat. She had drunk some water to try and stop the burn, but of course it didn't help. It took nearly an hour before the stinging faded a bit, but she knew it would be back. And soon.

Leyla knew her feeds were the last thing on the Dralan's mind. He wasn't even thinking about her anymore, she could tell. He was all about the Lady Kahtrina now. That's why he was pulling away. He didn't want to be in the same bed as her, that's why he was lying as far away as physically possible. He didn't want anything to do with her. He didn't care about her anymore.

Therefore, Leyla knew she would either have to take her drinking into own hands, like last time, or keep ignoring it until she collapsed from thirst. At least then, maybe he would acknowledge her - remember that she was still flesh and blood and needed it to survive.

But until then, Leyla would do exactly what he was doing to her; ignore him. Even if it meant risking her life.

Three days. Three long, whole days passed exactly like that first night; He'd wake up before her, sneak out quietly to avoid waking her up and maybe having to talk to her. He'd then be gone all day and only return late at night, after Leyla had dined alone and gone to bed after a full day of doing nothing.

And now she had had enough.

So that morning on the third day, when she woke up by the sound of him strapping on his weapons belt, she pretended to still be asleep so he could sneak out without having to face the courtesy of glancing at her. She waited until the door closed before she sat up and looked around in the foreign bedchamber that felt no more comforting than it did yesterday. Or the day before that.

Suddenly, a pang of nostalgia hit her. She missed her old bed in Eraldrulth. It probably wasn't there anymore. It was either burned down or replaced with a new one.

Leyla pushed the depressing thoughts of her childhood home out of her head. With determination, she got dressed and fixed her hair by herself. Bhria stopped by sometime during the morning, like she had the past three days. Something about the female seemed off, though. Leyla couldn't help but notice she seemed more jumpy and nervous than usual. More reserved. She didn't know if it was just because they were in a foreign place and she had trouble fitting in, or if there was something else that was bothering her. She had tried asking her about it, but Bhria assured her everything was okay and just dandy. The lie was obviously, though.

However, Leyla didn't want to push it. When she was ready to talk about it, she was confident she would come to her. Just like Bhria was there for her, Leyla was there for her, too. In this mad world, they were after all just two females who didn't have anyone but each other to lean on. Leyla was so happy she had met her - she honestly couldn't remember what she had done before Bhria. How had she pulled through without her?

Smiling a little, Leyla pinned the last pin in her hair and then stepped back to admire her attire for the day. The dress was her own creation; a soft, vaguely tinted pink dress that looked shining in the morning light. The fabric was of course silk and the dress itself fell beautifully around her feet, stopping just above her ankles. There was a small trail, but that was that. It was simple, soft and flowy.

Perfect for a small excursion.

Leyla had already made up her mind the evening before, when the Dralan came home and spoke nothing to her again before going straight to bed. She was tired of being locked up inside his room, just waiting for him to return in hopes that tonight, he would utter a word in her direction - only to be disappointed. Maybe she wouldn't have been so angry with him if he had just given her something else to do besides sewing. Providing her with a simple book. A piece of parchment for her to doodle on. Anything. But he didn't.

He was so self-absorbed these days - or perhaps more like Lady-Kahtrina-absorbed - that he didn't even grant a thought to how she was supposed to pass the day. He was out dining, walking and getting to know the Lady Kahtrina - drinking from her every night - while Leyla was stuck in his room, doing absolutely squat.

And enough was enough. If he wasn't going to keep or company or provide her with something to do, she was going out to find something herself - find her own fun. The fort had to have something that could entertain her, keep her occupied for a few hours.

Now, she wasn't being reckless; She had no intentions of leaving the fort or even straying too far from her room - but surely just exploring the next hallway or the one beyond that couldn't hurt, could it? Nobody would have to know. She was positive the Dralan wouldn't even notice; he never came back before evening anyway, so how would he ever learn of her little trip out?

And even if he did, Leyla didn't care. She was so fed up with his arrogance, she wanted to be a little rebellious - get a reaction out of him. Was that so wrong? Maybe. But it was going to be worth it.

So with a beating heart and a thrilling sensation in her stomach, Leyla carefully turned the knob on the door and peaked out. The hall was empty. She could hear voices somewhere in the distant, probably guards patrolling. She would have to look out for those. Even so, she knew she could do it. She had avoided Mihr hunters all her life, up until now, she was positive she could avoid running into a few guards as well.

"Okay," She whispered and took a deep breath, just as she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. "Let's go find some fun."

Bhria

It had been three days since Callath surprised Bhria in her chamber. Three days ago, her biggest secret got divulged.

And just like she had predicted, he hadn't showed his face around her since.

Because who would? Who would want to be around damaged goods? What male wanted a female that had been defiled like that - raped repeatedly and left broken, hollow inside.

Bhria had known the truth of this ever since that horrid day - that her life had ended then, but somehow continued. Now, as that truth was truly confirmed to her, the hurt almost crippled her.

She had no future prospects - even if she did eventually find a male she could picture herself being intimate with. He probably wouldn't want her. Callath had been set on getting her into his bed, but now that he knew about her secret, it only took one word from her and he was gone. Nobody could look past her past, not even herself. It was as if that moment defined who she was now.

- The female who got raped and lost all trust in males.

Bhria sniffled to herself as she stood down in the kitchen and folded the spare cloths she had just brought in from drying outside. She knew that this would be her present and future; Working. At least she could do that. She wasn't afraid of the cloths touching her skin. She wasn't scared that the soaps might do anything to her that she didn't like. Work was a comfort. It would always stay the same, never leave her. It was what it was, just like her.

"Bhria."

Jolting around, Bhria's heart flew into her throat. Clutching her chest, her eyes landed on Callath who carefully came into the empty kitchen - all of the others were taking their lunch break, where Bhria usually just kept working. Now, though, she was wishing she had taken that break anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," He said and held up his hands as he came closer - almost as if he was approaching a shy animal that might run away from him if he made any sudden movements.

Bhria took a deep breath, but still couldn't get her heart under control. With a shaky voice, she carefully spoke. "I-I'm sorry. D-do you need anything? I'll get out of here, I won't be in your way--"

"No," He said and instantly stepped in her way when she tried walking past him. It resulted in the two of them almost colliding, making Bhria gasp and take a hurried step back. Callath was calm, however. "I came here to find you."

He came to find her? Bhria thought and looked up at Callath in slight shock and confusion. Why would he do that? After that night... why would he want to have anything to do with her?

"M-me?" Bhria nervously asked. She had trouble keeping her eyes on his, those brown orbs looking way too observingly at her. "Why?"

"Because," Callath slowly pressed his lips together and then creased his brows a little. "Because you shouldn't be scared, Bhria. There are males out there who could and would hurt you, but I'm not one of them. You don't have to fear me."

Bhria's mouth fell open. What was he saying? Was he... telling her that he... hadn't given up yet? That he... still wanted her?

Tears stung in her eyes and a hard throb begun aching in her chest. She refused to believe it. He was the Dralan's best friend; he could have any female he wanted, so why would he want her? It didn't make sense.

"I can't," Bhria said and shook her head, looking away from him. She took a step back. "I can't, and you shouldn't--"

"No, wait," Callath said and instantly took another step forward. Bhria gulped when his large frame intimidated her, but also... strangely made her stomach tighten. He was a very attractive male, she couldn't deny that. He had broad shoulders and a lean body - that much she had seen from when she came to his tent that night and he had been shirtless. She had seen much more than what she needed to see.

But he was beautiful. Handsome. Strong.

It only emphasized the question of why he would then want a female like her? She was a Bahk - a common female. There was nothing special about her. Her figure was nothing impressive. She didn't have many shapes. Her thighs were too thick for her waist. Her arms too skinny. Her face was ordinary and boring, not like the Mihrisa or the Lady Kahtrina, whose features stood out like diamonds amongst coal. Why would he ever look her way when there were so many diamonds around?

"I've thought a lot about the other night," Callath begun, taking a small, measured step closer, almost as if he wanted to make sure he wasn't breaking any personal boundaries. "...how you didn't like when I came too close..." Now to emphasize his point, he took a step closer that made Bhria flinch and take one back. "But like I said before, you shouldn't fear me. I'm not here to hurt you or even... try anything with you, if that's not what you want. I'll respect that," He looked at her for a long moment, but then took yet another step closer. "But you can't live in fear anymore, Bhria. It's time you get over it."

A tear now escaped Bhria's tear duct. She quickly swiped it away and blinked fast to make the others disappear. She didn't want him to see her crying, not when he already knew how weak she was.

"I... I really wish I-I could," She whispered and sniffled quietly. She didn't meet his eyes, even if his sought out hers. She just couldn't. "But I can't. I've tried, you've seen it yourself," She said, her voice cracking. "It's not that I don't ever want to, it's just that..." Why was she telling him this? She shouldn't, he didn't care about it. Why was he saying all these things anyway? This was too confusing to her. "I'm sorry, I'm just gonna go--"

"No, stay," Callath said and again stepped in her path when she tried to leave. It made her close her eyes and hug herself. Why was he so persistent? "Don't run away, Bhria. You're stronger than that, I know you are."

No, I'm not, Bhria thought to herself and now felt as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Her shoulders began shaking as the sobs came to her, her exterior breaking down. She couldn't stop it. It was all too much, she didn't understand why he wanted her to do this... why he wanted to help her get over her fear.

"P-please," She sobbed and shook her head again. "J-just let me l-leave..."

Instantly, she felt Callath's hand on her arm, trying to soothe her. It rubbed up and down, so very gently.

But Bhria hadn't seen it coming. His touch made her jump and whimper, her skin instantly crawling by the touch of his. She withdrew in panic, just as Callath drew his hand back. Her eyes squeezed shut. "D-don't, please, I can't--"

"Bhria--"

"No, I can't," She hysterically said and shook her head, clutching herself while shaking. "I can't. Every time a male tries to touch me, I just--"

"Then you touch me."

Bhria froze up completely. For a moment, she thought she had misheard what he had said, but as she replayed his words in her head, they came out exactly as the first time she heard it. She couldn't believe it. "W-what?"

As her eyes opened and she looked up at him in shock, she saw Callath's eyes gently watching her back. His hands were at his sides and his stance was softened. He turned his palms outwards. "Touch me," He offered. "You say you don't like when males touch you... maybe it's because you don't trust them on what they'll do. So you have to find that trust, and you do that by touching a male first. So touch me, Bhria. I won't touch you back, I promise."

Again, all Bhria could do was stare. Her mouth slightly parted and she was pretty sure she had stopped breathing.

What was he saying? Was he saying that she should touch him so she would get used to the intimacy? So she would start trusting males? Was that even... logical?

"I... what?" Bhria had to ask again. She was beginning to sound like a simpleton, but right now, her mind was blanking. What was happening?

Callath softly took a step closer, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "Touch me, Bhria. Just try. Put your hand on my chest. Or my arm. Anything. Just try and see how it makes you feel."

Anxiousness crept into Bhria again, but it wasn't the usual kind. This was more in a subtle way, something that tickled in her stomach. It didn't explode inside her and make cold sweat run down her back, it only... made her hands slightly tremble.

She was nervous, she realized. He wanted her to touch him. Touch his body. Could she even get herself to do that? Did she even want to?

To the last question, she had to embarrassedly admit yes. Like she had stated previously, he was a beautiful, well-sculpted male. His dark-blond hair that fell just below his ears, she had wondered what felt like. His broad shoulders and hard-looking chest... back in the tent, when she had seen them, a fantasy had briefly coursed through her head, wherein she pictured herself running her hands over the smooth skin, touching his nipples. It had been a good fantasy. Until reality shocked her back to life.

What she had been through in her early days had been horrible, but it hadn't killed her urges. Not completely. She still on some good days caught herself imagining what real love would be like - how real intimacy was supposed to be with a male. Only, every time she pictured putting that fantasy into reality - actually having a male touch her like that - her fear came back.

But now... Callath was offering her a new way of trying things. Instead of the male touching her, she was touching him. There could be some truth in what Callath said about her needing to find some trust. Every male had a warning sign on his forehead in her world - all except her brother, that was, and maybe Ahrron, but other than that, she was scared of them all.

But if she could establish contact with a male without him touching her, maybe... just maybe, something inside her would click. She could work past her fear...

"Try," Callath now gently encouraged again. Bhria came out of her thoughts and looked up at his eyes once more; she saw nothing but kindness and warmth in them. "You can stop anytime you want. Just try, Bhria. Be strong."

Be strong. Those two words echoed in her head.

For once in her life, instead of running, Bhria chose to take up the fight. She took a deep breath which did little to calm her shaking hands, but it calmed her mind. She willed it to not focus on the slight twinge of fear throbbing in the back of her head, but instead focus on what she had to do.

Lift your hand. Put it on his chest. Lift your hand. Press it against his chest. Do it. Do it. Do it.

And before she realized she was, her hand was on his chest. Right over his heart. She could feel it beat hard and fast beneath her sweaty palm, almost as if letting her know, it wanted to come out and shake it.

Bhria released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Almost stunned by her own action, she stared at her own hand that rested over Callath's chest. The slit in the white tunic he wore revealed a bit of his tan skin beneath, and for some reason, Bhria wanted to touch it. She realized then, she could.

Carefully, smoothing her hand a bit to the side, she let it rest just in the middle of his chest, just where the slit was. Her index finger touched his bare skin and it felt electrifying. Heat shot up her neck and cheeks, but she didn't pull her hand away. And Callath didn't object.

"That's it," He breathed, making her eyes snap up to his again. She noticed they had darkened a bit, but they were still shining. "You're doing it, Bhria."

She really was. She couldn't believe it herself. Years and years of living in fear of touch, she was now the one doing the touching, and suddenly, it didn't seem all that scary. Actually, her left hand wanted to join the party as well. And again, she realized, it could.

Swallowing fearsomely, Bhria lifted her other hand and now laid both her hands on each of his pecs. For a whole minute, she just watched her own to hands lie there, so comfortably pressed against a male's body - a male body that felt really good below her touch.

He was actually really hard, Bhria thought. His pecs were soft, yet hard as two stones, strong and muscular. Was his stomach the same?

Biting her lip, Bhria bravely and with nervous hands slid her palms down a bit, letting them smooth down to his stomach. She heard his breath turned ragged, but she couldn't focus on that. If she had to pull through this, all she could focus on was herself and what she was doing. More importantly, what her hands were doing.

They were now resting over his abs. She could feel them through the thin fabric of his tunic. All of them. How many was there? She let her fingers slide down over them, counting as she bumped over each of them.

One, two, three, four... four on each side. Eight in total, then. Bhria smoothed up over them again, feeling suddenly how they tightened even more. How they became deeper, more prominent. They felt... strangely good.

She smoothed her hands down again, wanting to explore more, and now she found a new contour. A deep cut that started on either side of his hips, right above his hipbone. It sloped downwards, her fingers trailing down with it...

But then they stopped when they met resistance. Gasping, Bhria realized what that resistance was and looked down to see her hands resting right by the hem of his breeches, where - to her utter mortification - she saw a bulge just below them, straining slightly. The sight alone had Bhria quickly withdrawing her hands and taking a step back.

She had made him hard.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," Callath cursed to her surprise - and apologized, which was something males didn't do. The first time he had said it, back in her chamber, she thought she had heard wrong. Now that he said it again, it made her drop her jaw.

Bhria felt heat creep up her neck. Males only got hard when they got aroused, didn't they? If he was hard right now, that meant... it meant that he...

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Callath now quickly said and took a deep breath. That's when Bhria realized how oddly hoarse his voice sounded. "I tried to... stop it."

What was she supposed to say? 'It's okay?' 'Don't worry about it?' 'It doesn't matter?' Bhria couldn't think of anything logical to say. Her mind was tumbling around, scrambled and slightly embarrassed about what she had done.

She had touched him. She had stroked him, run her hands over his body. Of course he would get hard. What kind of male wouldn't? She had been so stupid. Looking back at it now, it seemed so foolish that she had given in to his suggestion.

"I'm sorry," She finally said and turned away from him. She couldn't look at him - not just because he was still hard, but because she didn't know how to feel at the moment. "I-I should get on with my d-duties."

"Bhria, hold on--"

This time, before he could step in her path, Bhria circled around him, carrying the pile of folded cloths she had quickly picked up, and then nearly ran for the door. She was out before he could utter another word or do another thing.

Bhria couldn't believe what she had just done; she had just touched a male, made him hard and then run out on him, leaving him in the kitchen alone with... that. The embarrassment made her cheeks burn and made her want to hide in a corner for the rest of the day.

Yet, still... not one part of her regretted what had happened. For the first time in years, touching hadn't been scary. It had actually felt almost good. She didn't know if it was because of Callath or if it was simply because she had been brave today.

- All she knew was that she wanted to do it again.

Dohmenic

Coward.

The one word he had always strived never to use to describe himself, now might as well be written across his forehead. Because he was nothing more than a weak, pathetic coward of a male.

Avoiding his Mihrisa just so he wouldn't get tempted by her? Coward move.

Not speaking to her for three whole days, because the sound of her gentle voice made him instantly hard - even more cowardly.

But lastly, ignoring her when he had heard her cry, had smelled the scent of hurt coming off her each night he had come home with the Lady Kahtrina's blood in his veins, that was what truly branded him as a lowly, puny coward. 

He couldn't deal with it. Not that he didn't want to - he wanted so badly to wrap her small, fragile body up against his and hold her tightly in his arms. He wanted to tell her more than anything of how he felt, how he wanted to drink from her, dine with her, feel her body snuggle up against his in the middle of the night once more, just because it felt so right when she did. That every time he told the Lady Kahtrina to feed him, he had to hold his breath and close his eyes to get himself to drink from her - to swallow her blood and let it course through his body.

But he didn't. Because he was a coward.

But it's for the best, he kept telling himself, even now as he left the Lady Kahtrina, after having spent the forenoon with her, walking in the gardens behind the fort. They had planned now to rest for a bit, bathe and change clothes, then go for a ride, maybe down to the city and meet his southwestern people.

Every minute spent with the Lady Kahtrina was a struggle towards hopefully seeing her as his Dralaq one day. In every fantasy he had, he could easily see her sitting there, suiting his throne.

She just wouldn't suit him. She would suit the kingdom. His ancestors. His next of kin. But the things she wouldn't suit, was his bed. His lap. His lips. His side.

She could fit so perfectly, yet still not fit inside his heart. And he feared she never would.

Simply because that spot had already been claimed.

Cursing lowly to himself, the Dralan pushed a hand through his hair as he walked down the deserted hallways, deep in his own thoughts.

When was this infatuation going to stop? When was she going to get out of his system?

A small part of him feared what he had perhaps known for some time now. He just didn't want to admit it - to himself or to anyone.

That she wasn't just an infatuation. That she wasn't just a female he craved for briefly, simply because he couldn't have her. She was more than that, even if she could never be.

Sighing again, the Dralan turned a corner and reached the hallway where his room was. Where his Mihrisa awaited him. He wasn't sure what he was going to do when he came in there, but for all he was worth, he was going to avoid talking to her. He was certain that just one sound from her would have the blood flooding to his loins and harden him within the second. She had that effect on him.

Just one look at him with those amber, gold-specked eyes, he was hard as a rock. He wanted to drive forward, grasp her, and press his lips against hers, taste her mouth for the first time. How sweet it would be... how soft she would be, he knew... she would moan at his touch and melt beneath him, turn into putty and be at his mercy - unable to resist him. He could take her then - drag her to his bed and have her beneath him, have her spread her long, beautiful legs and--

"Fuck," He cursed under his breath again and finally stopped in front of his chamber. He could feel his member twitching in his breeches, which was the worst thing it could be doing, right before he had to go face the beauty he was fantasizing of. That would surely awaken the fantasy to life.

But as he paused outside his chamber, he felt something being off. There was no pull on the other side of the door, nothing that drew his body to wanting to burst through it and grasp at what lied behind it. He hadn't been feeding from the Lady Kahtrina long enough for the bond between him and his Mihrisa to be broken yet, so why was there no pull?

The answer came to him when his sharp hearing heard a giggle from one hallway down - a giggle that could only belong to a female voice so sweet, it made a chill go down his strong back.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Let that sound consume him before his anger bubbled up to the surface and exploded. He listened to the sound of his Mihrisa laughing, let her joy be his for a moment.

But then the inevitable anger came.

She wasn't inside his chamber. She had left and thereby directly defied his orders. He supposed he should've seen it coming with the way he had been treating her lately, but he had imagined a temper tantrum. Or something else. Not that she would dare to leave the safety of his chamber to go out on a trip, alone in the fort, filled with male guards who could be secret spies for Phlague.

Fury exploded within him. The Dralan gritted his teeth and balled up his fists, trying to contain it. But it was no use. The pure danger she had put herself in--if she wanted to be rebellious, to catch his attention, she could've done so in a way that would've mean endangering herself, aka him, aka the entire kingdom.

He would have to punish her for this now. And last time, he had barely been able to control himself. The strong scent of lust that had reeked from her body had been like an airborne drug to his system; he had hardened into a diamond and felt the almost uncontrollable urge to just plummet into her from behind, sink in between her two soft globes he had used to grind himself against.

And now he had to punish her again. He wouldn't make it through. He just knew. But he also couldn't ignore this, let her think this was okay. He couldn't.

With determined steps, he followed the sound of his Mihrisa's laughter, completely disregarding the fact that he should've been getting ready for his ride with the Lady Kahtrina. Right now, this was more important; getting her back into his chambers where she belonged and then punish her, while still keeping it together somehow.

As he turned another corner, he stopped outside of a room where the door was slightly ajar. The sounds came from inside, and now that he was close enough, he heard that his Mihrisa's laugh wasn't the only happy giggling. There was another voice - a much younger one in there with her.

"Do a swan!" A happy, childish voice cheered. It was a little female, one so young, she had to still be learning how to speak.

His Mihrisa giggled again. "A swan? Okay, I'll try."

Curious as to what they were doing, the Dralan glanced inside the crack of the door; There, sitting in the middle of the floor in a spare, empty room with just one window, his Mihrisa and the young Auhrelia - lord Amasgohn's youngest daughter - were, making shadow-images with the light coming from the window. The shadow of their hands were cast up against the wall, and now as he admired their game, he saw his Mihrisa form a swan with her hands, making the shadow appear as one.

"Yaaay, I wuve swans!" The little Auhrelia clapped excitedly and grinned widely with her round, apple-cheeks. "More, more, more!"

"Hmm... how about... a flying eagle?" His Mihrisa suggested.

"Yes! Do an eggle!"

The Dralan watched as his Mihrisa shaped her hand into a basking eagle, letting her hands bend as the shadow flew across the wall.

The little female giggled wildly and clapped hands. "Do a dwagon!"

"A dragon?" His Mihrisa said, sounding surprised. "You like dragons?"

"I wuve them! I want one myself," Auhrelia chirped. "I want to be a Mihwisa like you when I gwow up, so I can mate a Dwalan and he can find me a dwagon!"

The Dralan's lips twitched a little. Children had always been his favorite. The innocence of their mind, their freedom... he envied them. There were days he wished he could go back to that age again, be a child for just one more day.

But then who would look after the kingdom?

"Oh," His Mihrisa now said. He noticed a small frown form on her face. "I think you could do a lot better than a Dralan."

The Dralan felt as though someone had just punched him in the chest. As he continued to watch his Mihrisa now shape a dragon-shadow for the little female, he clenched his jaw and let that one sink in.

You could do a lot better than a Dralan.

There was no better male in the world than a Dralan - or at least that was how it was supposed to be. To hear his Mihrisa - his mind's obsession - say that the little female could do better than him, it made him feel... hurt. It was a kind of pain he wasn't familiar with. He had been cut many times, stabbed, even almost had his arm amputated once, but this right here... hurt more.

It hurt in his chest. Constricted. But it also angered him.

He wasn't good enough? She was judging him. Saying that he wasn't worth the trouble. Worth loving.

Rage turned his vision red. With a snarl on his lips, he pushed the door opened and stepped inside, surprising both of the females who gasped when the shadows on the wall shaped out his figure instead. His Mihrisa spun around and stood up, instantly widening her eyes. For he first time in days, he looked into them and saw those golden irises he had so missed.

But there was no time for that. All he could hear ringing in his ears now was how he wasn't worth loving.

"Auhrelia, go to your mother," He told the little female who looked almost scared up at him. She somewhat hid behind his Mihrisa's dress, a dress he briefly noted had to be her own creation. It suited her so much better than any of the ones he had brought her. It was more her.

Carefully, the little female snuck out from behind his Mihrisa and then waddled out of the room in a hurry, leaving behind him and his Mihrisa. She gulped nervously, but stood her ground.

He took a threatening step closer, instantly towering above her, and then glared down into her face. "Get... back... into... my... chamber."

Each word was uttered with stealth and precision. His Mihrisa's breath caught, but she still shakily nodded. Bowing her head, she begun walking around him, but she didn't get far.

The Dralan caught her arm and squeezed it tightly, prevented her from moving any further. She gasped shortly, but then shut up completely when slowly leaned down to her ear and whispered, almost deadly in her ear; "You are in so much trouble, Mihrisa."