The mere seconds that passed between the cessation of her song and Vikram’s reaction felt like centuries. It was as if Mirage could feel the heartbeat of every living thing around her. The rhythm of a moth beating its wings. The rustle of a bird shifting its position in its nest. The footsteps of an ant as it walks along the loam of the forest. Her breathes were laborious, long, the beat of the muscle behind her breastbone entered a small arrhythmia, it quickened, it slowed – frankly it didn’t know what to do. Nervous, she identified the emotion, as if giving it a name would help her defeat it. Anxious, she thought again, and her tail slashed itself against raven flanks, in attempts to abolish the futile feelings. You are afraid! Akaith exclaimed within her cranium. The singing had ended, now only the relative silence of the forest remained. Of course I am. Do you even realise what just happened? Irritably the mare mentally barked back at her dragon, who was still happily sitting atop the stallion’s withers. As Vikram took a step toward the mare, the golden queen lifted herself from his back, and with a couple of easy beats of her wings, landed upon Mirage’s back briefly. You need not fear, I am here. But Akaith was a cunning creature, just as her bonded was devious, and with a smug, cheeky emotion evident in their bond, the queenly one darted off into the trees.

And then he touched her.

Slightly distracted that she was, Mirage froze, if that was even possible for one who was not moving very much already. Every muscle in her body seemed to enter a tetanic contraction, and for a tenth of a second, the illusionary cloak might have blurred the edges of her appearance. But it didn’t want to stay up, it was as if she was arguing with her own magic. The magic was a reflex for her, and her reflexes refused to let her hide from him. Suddenly the focus she had upon everything around her blurred, and only the dragon stallion was present, and her, the dragon bonded and learned one. He had touched her upon the metallic marking that wisped down her nape, the marking that symbolised something within her, something that his presence had made more palpable, more noticeable. The mare closed her eyes, and concentrated on his touch, his warm, living, loving touch, and she sighed, having apparently forgotten how to breathe.

The warmth of Vikram spread over her then, like a wildfire creeping over a forest, she allowed herself to accept him, his love, his presence, everything that touch represented. Her bodice didn’t shirk away from him, but rather it yearned for him, it longed to be held within his embrace, to be stroked and comforted and loved. Gilded gaze looked to him now, a smile glinting behind those knowing, affectionate eyes, and tilting the smooth curvature of her lips. Leaning into his muzzle, she found it not enough to satisfy her need of his closeness, she crept closer to him, wanting not to touch him fleetingly as in previous encounters, but instead feel him. Placing her own muzzle upon his thick, masculine nape, she stroked him, before burying her tiara along the tight muscles, pressing her eyes closed against him, breathing him in, soaking him up. Tears dared to squeeze through her shut eyelids, though they were not tears of sadness, but sheer happiness.

“Impossible to deny it now.” Accented tones whispered into his bulk, and she knew Akaith would hear her. The dragon radiated smugness and satisfaction from somewhere in the canopy, as if this was all her doing. And who knows, maybe it was.