My horns cast shadows over Lachlan as I back him into the alcove, my body a wall of scale and muscle that leaves no escape. His arm presses against my thick thigh in the confined dark, neither of us shifting away while the scouts move past. For the first time, my dominance feels like a cage I built around myself.
He is smaller, lean where I am broad, and that difference should make him mine to command. Instead his steady presence stirs a hunger I have starved for centuries. The size ritual pact waits, ready to force me into yielding my throne and my isolation through the very closeness that already threatens to consume us both.
I rule alone. But his body fits against mine in ways that make me question who will end up enclosed.
