The Golden Dragon's Hoard

2 - 10

"Better to die fighting for freedom then be a prisoner all the days of your life."
― Bob Marley

no message today, just a little sad that this book is coming to an end

Part Two - Chapter Ten
"The Dragon's Loved Witch"

It's night time when Stray can finally shift back.

For the first time in months, Stray's sleep is dreamless. It's odd, waking up and doing so slowly instead of having the fading realization that his physical body is starting to come to. More than odd, though, he's grateful that he wakes up without any pain pulling on his nerves.

His wings are soaked with the warm buzz of the aftereffect of magic, skin tingling wherever it had been healed.

He could shift without risking anything, with ease.

Stretching, Stray looked around, realizing that most of his coven was asleep—Ras and Oziamon in their tent, Athanasius shifted and curled around the voidwalker and him to keep watch.

It was a peaceful night, quiet and cool. The stars above them were bright and the only thing that offered any help to see was how the moon looked down upon them all.

He could barely make out his own paws underneath him.

Despite this, the youngling could tell that Kaigon was still awake.

It was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind, one that let him know they're awake, let him feel as they press up against his mental barriers; a silent reassurance of I'm here.

I'm here, too, Stray pressed back into it, an acknowledgement.

It's easy to slide off of his dad's massive paw and onto the makeshift bed his witch made for themself, easy to slip under their covers and wrap his arms—arms because he could shift, because he has his voice back—around their waist.

Kaigon doesn't startle, doesn't protest, but they suck in a heavy breath, hands hovering before they lightly grip onto his shoulders, easing them together until they are laid side by side, legs tangled and his head under their chin.

He could feel the other's heartbeat under his ear, hearing it pounding away.

The witch hums, fingers running through his hair, and despite all the anxiety building in his chest, Stray relaxes into it.

"Kaigon?" He whispers—and isn't that something, the ability to say their name?

The ability to be here, with them. To hold them, to breathe the same air, to feel the way their lungs expand from where he rests his head on their chest. Fabric under fingertips, a witch in his arms, magic pressed against his own—this was everything he wanted.

"Starlight," they return the greeting, grip tightening for just a moment before relaxing.

"I miss you." It isn't a lie.

"...I miss you too."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you we were coming," Stray says, hiding his face against their collarbone, shame making his voice shake. "I was—scared."

"You thought I'd run," Kaigon reads between the lines, always able to dig down to his roots and pull out his weedy fears. "That I'd leave you again."

"I can't remember you leaving me the first time," he admits, fingers flexing against their back. "But I can't forget it all over again, Kage. I can't lose you, my heart can't take it."

"You'd survive," they sound confident but Stray—well, Stray knows they shouldn't be. "You're a survivor above all else, but you said that as if I want to leave you."