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His scaly body was outside of it while his shoulders up to his snout lay inside with his head resting on his forearm, watching her sleep on top of her bed and under the furs he’d covered her with.

She will wake and yell at me.Rurik hadn’t just fucked her once or twice. He had fucked her until she’d been practically passing out while still bouncing around his cock.

He couldn’t remember how many times he filled Amalia’s body with his seed. He lost count while he vented his pain and anger out on her body in a tangled mix of emotions, both hateful towards the world and lust-filled towards her.

He hadn’t known how else to vent it.

Especially when she had looked so sweet trying to reach for him and telling him she wanted to help him.

His day hadn’t been a good one, and he felt shame and guilt for taking it out on her. He had been so consumed with the emotions inside himself that he’d been blinded by it.

I remember scenting her arousal.It had felt like a drug at the time and had made him feel crazed.She also tried to push me away.It felt like she had struck him anew when she did.

But her desire did not fade as it usually did.He ran a paw over his eyes because he wasn’t sure if that was his mind trying to twist what happened to make himself feel better.She reached for me, returned my kisses. She did not tell me to stop.

She’d been accepting him, but he knew he had been too rough with her. When she had cut her nails into him, he’d grabbed her wrists so she couldn’t do it again, couldn’t spur him on. It had made him angrier when he felt them.

He’d been uncontrollable. He hadn’t slowed or gentled, even when he eventually flipped her over and took her from behind. He’d taken her on her hands and knees like a feral animal, like a mindless beast, as he fucked her over and over.

When she had been limp in his arms, he still hadn’t wanted to stop, but his lust-addled mind had registered that he needed to, and he brought her here so she could rest. She’d fallen asleep in his arms as he walked, hadn’t even made it to the bed before she was gone.

He’d still been angry. He’d still been able to feel the hex on his body and his wounds. There had been smudges of his own blood on her that he had to wipe away with a damp cloth because he wouldn’t allow the essence of his blood to remain on her.

After laying her down, Rurik went to the secret alcove and stood in the centre.

All along the walls were runes in an ancient Dragonian language carved into the rock in a circle around the alcove. They’d glowed as he chanted, one-by-one coming to life with fire, like the crackle of burning coal.

It was how he removed the hex, the symbols required in order to reverse the magic used against him. It was why he’d been unable to remove the ones that had been placed on him when he’d found himself in her cottage.

Once he could no longer feel the witchcraft on himself, he shifted back to his Dragon form and quietly seethed in his stream so she could sleep peacefully.

She helped me calm my anger.And that was a feat all on its own.

He’d been far less enraged when he put her down. He’d returned to a state where he could think, could process what happened to him, what he had done, and what he’d seen.

And once he was done grieving for his fellow Dragon who he himself had murdered, once his blood had stopped boiling at his pitiful defeat, he came to watch over Amalia while she slept.

I will not avoid her because I know I have done wrong.If she asked him to leave, he would. If she wanted to scream at him, he would let her. If she wanted to throw things, he wouldn’t dodge them.

When she stirred for the first time in hours, he lifted his head. The sun had long ago risen, and she’d been peacefully asleep the whole time.

Rurik was tired. He wanted to lay against her in his Dragon form. He didn’t think he would be able to fall asleep next to her in his human body, but the idea of doing so in his scaled one seemed oddly agreeable.

It was the first time he had wanted to.

She’d slept against him a few times, but he’d never done it because he felt vulnerable in his sleep. But he was tired, and, because of her, he was sated. He had vented and had felt better afterwards.

He brushed his tongue against his fangs. She pleased him, and he wanted to hold her for doing so.

She stirred again, and he lifted his head higher to see. She was slow to come to as he watched her blink open her eyes. She rose to sit up while holding the furs against her chest and rubbing her face with grogginess.

He held his breath, waiting for it to come. All he hoped was that she didn’t cry.

I do not want to be the source of her tears.

She finally saw him and froze. He inwardly cringed when she slipped her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet. She dragged the fur with her to cover her nudity.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, and his lungs emptied on a stunned breath.