A Courtship of Dragons: Part 49

A Courtship of Dragons is a M/M Romance short novel (approximately 60,000 words) told in short scenes, between two young dragons, Estenarven kin Boulderforce Clan Stoneheart and Mastekh kin Rainstorm Clan Flowflight. It’s pure fluff ‘n’ stuff and not intended to be anything other than that.

|| First Part || All Parts || Last Part ||

Estenarven, at last.

49
The Seventh Gift

AFTER WANDERING IN the endless darkness, numb and separated from his body and senses, Estenarven felt life in himself again. It burned at first, painful and sharp, zapping through each of his muscles, running through his bones until his teeth hummed with it and his head felt like shattering.

Then he breathed. A shallow gasp full of pins inside his chest, inside his lungs. Followed by the scent of water lilies and moss. It soothed him.

His skin prickled, burning, burning, burning. Until a cool touch drifted over it, tracking across his body and turning pain to pleasure.

His mouth was parched, but water came.

His ears were ringing, but whispers of affection broke through.

His eyes were last. Heavy eyelids, lightened by kisses. A gaze full of black spots and strained muscles, until a beloved face filled his vision.

“Mastekh,” he croaked in a voice of shattered rubble. “My Mastekh.”

A brief kiss, too brief, but full of life and love. “Esten,” a whisper in return.

Estenarven lifted an arm that felt as heavy as the boulders of his kin and cupped that precious face, more meaningful to him than any number of gifts. And he smiled.

Mastekh smiled back, eyes swimming with tears. One escaped, splashing against Estenarven’s cheek. It burned, but in a good way, scouring him clean.

“Sleep,” his beloved urged. “Rest. There’s no r-rush.”

Except… except… Estenarven fought against the undertow threatening to drag him back into the darkness again. “The gift,” he gasped. “I… Did you…? Do you have it?”

Mastekh stared at him, green eyes shining and stroked a cool hand over his face. “I h-have it,” he whispered, looking deep into Estenarven’s eyes. “The only g-gift I’ll ever n-need.”

Sighing, Estenarven sank back and closed his eyes, taking Mastekh’s hand in his and pressing it against his chest, against his heart. “And I have mine,” he murmured, and let the tide of sleep sweep him away.

~ Last Chapter ~