Regret
The world was known as Aquarius, and above one of its many tranquil landscapes currently shrouded in night a dragon's powerful wings cut through the damp evening air, his golden scales shimmering faintly beneath the moonlight as he banked low over the jagged cliffs below. The massive webbed spines along his back—delicate yet razor-edged—twitched with each gust of wind, stretching from the crown of his skull down to the midpoint of his coiled tail, whose spade-shaped tip flicked absently. His golden gaze flicked downward to his abdomen as a deep, guttural growl resonated through his scaled belly, hunger tightening like a coiled spring.
He scanned the darkened terrain, the land beneath him untamed: dense forests of tall pines, their depths hidden in shadow, finding nothing but empty wilderness. Then something flickered at the edge of his vision. A castle. Distant but unmistakable, its tower's clawing at the partly clouded night sky.
The dragon's golden eyes widened, pupils dilating as his barbed tongue lolled between dagger-like fangs as he huffed in anticipation, hot breath billowing between his agape jaws. The small frills behind his jaw twitched in preparation to flare out, for a structure meant prey. Meat.
He banked sharply toward the distant silhouette, wings beating harder now, his small ears twitching for the faintest sound as he descended towards the castle's torch-lit windows, each one a promise of something warm, something screaming. His duel-horned shadow engulfed the castle's roof as he swept past a peculiar wind vane—its twisted brass motif depicting a creature frozen mid-gallop, equine legs splayed beneath a draconic snout that gazed forward, a reptilian tail flaring in the opposite direction.
Then it hit him: a scent curling from the highest tower, thick as honeyed wine. Feminine. Ripe.
Stealthily approaching the tower, the dragon's claws sank soundlessly into the solid mortar between rose-choked stones, his sinuous body pressed flush against the structure's curve as he ascended towards the lone window with a predator's grace. His nostrils flared—steam, lavender soap, the heady musk of warm flesh—as he silently peaked over the sill and peered inside. Candlelight pooled like liquid gold across the bathing chamber beyond, glinting off the half-empty wineglass abandoned on the edge of a raised stone tub where an anthropomorphic unicorn mare lounged in the soapy water.
Her delicate back was braced against a pillow laid at the edge of the tub, her white coat seemingly fashioned out of pure moonlight, the only thing gleaming brighter being the small horn extending from her brow in an elegant, spiraling arch of ivory. Her mane—spun gold unraveling in wet, molten rivulets—clung to the curve of her alabaster shoulders and spilled down the dip of her pearly spine, the candlelight catching each strand, which gleamed like liquid fire, pearlescent droplets trembling at the tips, catching the glow as they dripped lazily back into the bathwater. Her right hand worked a damp cloth in slow circles beneath her raised left arm, the position resulting in her right arm being draped over her full breasts.
Her long, thin, sinewy tail flicked lazily along the water's surface, the gilded tuft at the end sending droplets scattering while her lashes, dark against the flushed cream of her cheeks, rested softly below her closed eyelids as her lips parted on a sigh. She was a marvelous sight to behold, and to the dragon, she looked oh so succulent.
Water sluiced down the unicorn mare's flanks in glistening sheets as she gracefully rose from the bath, droplets trembling at the curve of her hips before plummeting back into the tub. Her cloven hooves—polished obsidian—clicked against the wet stone as she stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel, the shift of her weight making the taut muscles of her thighs flex beneath ivory skin. The dragon's breath hitched as she suddenly bent forward and twisted the towel through her mane, the motion making her buttocks jounce gently, their pert fullness glistening with lingering moisture as her tail absentmindedly flicked to the side—inadvertently exposing the full visage of the plush, quivering swell of her rump to the window and her unseen observer.
The dragon's claws flexed against the tower stones as he watched a single droplet trace the crease of her thighs, vanishing into the shadowed cleft, his gaze locked onto the hypnotic sway of her haunches—each movement flexing the twin globes like two strips of prime meat being pounded under a butcher's mallet, their smooth surface still glazed with dampness that caught the candlelight in a sheen of liquid gold. His eyes widened, his barbed tongue dragging over his lips as he imagined the succulent give of that flesh as he sank his teeth into her succulent body.
Her emerald eyes suddenly snapped toward the window—equine ears twitching at the wet, rasping sound that had slithered through the night—but the dragon had already vanished, his golden body melting into the shadows beneath the window with serpentine grace. She dismissed the sound with a silent shrug soon after—just the wind, surely—and reached for a leather-bound volume resting on a small table beneath a gilded portrait of a proud, finely dressed anthropomorphic unicorn stallion whose spiraled horn mirrored her own.
The dragon chanced another glance through the window, his pupils dilating as he watched her palm brushed the book's spine as she picked it up, his barbed tongue flicking hungrily over his lips once more as she strode toward the arched doorway, each cloven step making her supple rump sway like a pendulum of flesh—taut, then yielding, taut again—until she vanished into the torch-lit hall beyond. Despite his hunger, he noticed that her expression seemed somewhat "aroused" as she looked at the book she'd picked up.
The dragon's claws scraped silently against the weathered stone as he descended the body of the tower, his own sinuous body hugging its curve with predatory precision. The window was too small for entry, he'd need to find another way in. The scent—lavender and something deeper, muskier—lingered like a trail of breadcrumbs, pulling him downward until his golden eyes caught the arched outline of a doorway below, its dark maw yawning wide enough to admit even his scaled bulk.
Once inside he saw there were no guards, no torches—just shadowed stairs spiraling upward, their worn edges whispering of centuries of hurried footsteps. His tongue flicked out, tasting the air once more: there. The mare's warmth lingered faintly on the stale draft curling downward from the stairs, and with a silent snarl, he slipped inside, his spade-tipped tail the last thing to vanish into the darkness.
The dragon's scaled belly scraped against the spiral staircase's ancient stone as he ascended, his nostrils flaring at the fading traces of lavender and mare-sweat—no other scents, no overlapping musk of servants or lingering iron-tang of guards. Only her. Alone.
His tail lashed once in irritation, the spade tip cracking against the wall. No feast of panicked flesh, no chorus of screams to savor—just one solitary creature padding through these hollow halls.
Disappointing.
But then his tongue flicked out again, catching the fresh, heady scent of her from somewhere above, and his slit-pupils dilated.
Perhaps not entirely disappointing.
The stairs spilled into an opulent, candle-lit bedchamber where the unicorn mare let out a content sigh as her weight sank into an extravagant queen-sized bed in the center of the room, adorned with quilts, pillows, and throw pillows, the book gripped between her slender fingers while her cloven hooves—now dry from her bath—flexed lazily against the embroidered quilt. She rolled onto her stomach, lying inverted on the bed, (her legs facing the headboard, instead of the other way around) the arch of her spine dipping into a graceful curve as her knees bent upward, her hocks angling her hoofed feet towards the high ceiling.
As the dragon silently slipped into the room his tongue darted out, tasting the thick aroma of her scent once more as she absentmindedly dragged a fingertip down the book's spine, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parting on another sigh—this one deeper, needier—as she arched her neck and eased the book open and gazed into the contents. He briefly considered why the mare's arousal seemed tied to that damned book—some equine erotica, perhaps?—but the thought evaporated as his stomach growled again, hunger sharpening his focus.
His scaled belly slid soundlessly across the stone floor, claws retracted to silence his approach as he prowled towards the head of the bed with a ravenous expression, licking his lips eagerly as he twisted his neck around the side of the headboard to lurk near the edge of the mattress; so close to the unicorn now he could see every extravagant detail of her savory body. Silently, he reached up, braced his claws on the headboard and rose, looming behind her unsuspecting form as she continued to read her book, casually sucking her right index finger with that same half-lidded expression. The massive wedge of his head eclipsed the candlelight as his jaws parted eagerly, his tongue—forked and glistening—unfurled from between his dagger-length fangs, hovering inches above the nape of her neck, saliva pooling hot against his palate.
Then she flipped the page of her book with her wetted finger—the revealed illustration on the next page making his eyes widen in surprise and his jaw slacken with astonishment. The detailed sketch depicted a sideward view of a horned griffon mounting an anthropomorphic pegasus mare from behind, his talons gripping her shoulders while his thick, barbed cock plunged between her rounding buttocks, undoubtedly into her unseen folds. The illustrated pegasus mare's expression was of pure bliss, her wings splayed wide, her knees and hands braced against the ground, her tail arched high to give him deeper access. The title at the top of the page read *Interspecies Sex*, the ink glossy as if freshly printed.
The image had an unprecedented effect on the dragon.
There was a loud 'thump' as his cock emerged from its sheath as it became erect, and slammed against the headboard, his golden eyes darting down to his sternum in alarm as the rigid length twitched against the polished wood. The unicorn mare's ears flickered upright at the sound and he barely had time to sidestep and silently throw himself prone to the floor and out of her line of sight before she turned, her mane spilling like molten gold over one shoulder as she scanned the room with her emerald eyes in search of the unknown noises, her expression still somewhat aroused. His pulse hammered against his ribs-not from alarm now, but from the predatory thrill coiling low in his gut as he watched her, his expression not just returning to predatory, but also adopted a bit of arousal as well.
A slow grin split his face. If she liked the 'idea' of being taken by something not of her own species... well, he'd give her the truth of it.
Throwing all caution to the wind, the dragon took the moment while she was scanning the room to leap onto the bed in a single coiled motion, the unicorn mare letting out a startled "eep!" as his muscular arms swiftly grabbed her and pulled her flush to his chest, a look of surprise and horror forming on her face as she looked into his ravenous expression. Her hands instinctively scrambled against his massive forearms in a futile attempt to push him off her, his jaws parting dangerously near the curve of her shoulder, fangs grazing the damp skin where her pulse fluttered like a trapped bird.
His tongue—hot and rasping—dragged up the right side of her face in one slow, wet stroke, leaving a glistening trail of saliva along her cheekbone, the unicorn mare instinctively squeezing one eye shut as she squinted in disgust and unease, her nostrils flaring as her muscles tensed for the inevitable bite. But instead, the dragon's claws merely tightened around her shoulders, pulling her up to her knees and flush against his chest—not crushing, but possessive—his grip almost demure compared to the ravenous promise of his fangs. Her emerald eyes flew open in stunned confusion as his breath puffed warm against her damp skin, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent of lavender and rising panic.
Then, to her shock and surprise, the dragon's tail—thick and sinuous—slithered up between her trembling thighs from behind, the spaded tip dragging along her inner seam with deliberate, teasing pressure. The unicorn mare gasped, her breath hitching as the smooth, heated scales pressed flush against her vulnerable vulva, the friction coaxing a slick shudder from her folds. And just like that, her terror dissolved like sugar in hot tea, her body going boneless against the dragon's chest, her head tipping forward to rest against his right shoulder as her emerald eyes fluttered shut with a blissful moan. The contrast was dizzying—his muscles, unyielding as iron beneath his golden scales, caged her pliant form while his tail worked her with wicked precision, the dual sensations of dominance and pleasure unraveling her resistance.
But it was not long after that the dragon's tail withdrew with a slow, deliberate slide—leaving her dripping folds aching—and hooked under the length of her own slender tail, entwining them slightly as he wrapped his left arm around her waist and eased her onto her back against the rumpled quilts, his forked tongue flashing out, tracing the peaked swell of her left nipple in a wet, circling stroke that made her gasp. Her cloven hooves dug into the bedding as she arched into the contact, her moans dissolving into breathless whimpers, her head tipping back in surrender, eyes closed in bliss. Her emerald eyes then drifted downward with heavy-lidded fascination, drinking in the dragon's coiled form as he tended to her breasts—his golden scales shimmering like molten treasure in the candlelight.
She'd spent years aching for this—something wild and 'other'—and now he was here, a living answer to every secret midnight sigh. He was everything her stolen fantasies had whispered about. A shiver traced her spine—not from fear now, but from the delirious realization that the illustrations in her hidden books had been mere shadows compared to the heat of him.
*Real.*
He suddenly withdrew his tongue and lay on his side with an inviting expression, and without hesitation, she clambered onto her knees with a soft rustle of displaced quilts, her slender hands splaying across the broad planes of his golden chest as she leaned down to lavish his pectorals with slow, wet strokes of her tongue. His throat vibrated with a pleased rumble as he watched her work, his gaze dipping lower over the curve of her shoulder to the plush cleft of her succulent rump.
He then rolled onto his back with a slow, sinuous motion, his golden belly scales glinting in the candlelight as they stretched taut over his abdomen—and there, nestled against the softer, slightly darker plating between his thighs, lay the thick, tapered length of his cock, still erect and twitching with interest. The unicorn mare's breath hitched at the sight, her emerald eyes flickering between the broad tip and the heavy sac beneath, her slender hands trembling as they reached out—first to cradle the weight of his balls in one palm, her thumb brushing lightly over the smooth skin, then to wrap the other around the base of his shaft. She leaned down, her spiraled horn catching the light as she parted her lips and took just the swollen tip into her mouth, her tongue swirling in shy, experimental laps.
His mouth parted in a silent snarl of appreciation, forked tongue flicking out between his jaws as he watched her futile attempts—adorable, really—to take more than the slickened crown into her mouth. The dragon hooked a pinky claw around her tail affectionately, his own tail lashing once in amusement at her attempts to draw him in—she couldn't, not with that delicate equine muzzle—but gods below, he'd let her try.
When he'd felt she'd done enough he hooked his right claw tight around her waist, pulling her away from his member and leaning her back, bracing her effortlessly against the quilts as he shifted position, rising to his hunches and looming over her petite form. Her emerald eyes widened—startled, but not fearful, marveling at the way he manipulated her body with such ease—as he sat up, his golden scales rippling with the motion, one broad hand supporting the dip of her spine while he guided his swollen cockhead to her flushed folds. She gasped as the blunt tip dragged through her slickness, spreading her lips without penetration, the heat of him searing against her sensitive flesh, a moan spilling from her lips as she clenched her eyes, her back arching against his clawed grip, knees bending instinctively as she rocked her hips upward—seeking, needing.
He leaned in, running his barbed tongue along the back of her neck, her body going limp against the quilt as the pleasure increased, her head lolling back, eyes still clenched as a wanton moan spilled from her lips while her slick folds smeared glistening trails along the dragon's throbbing length. His cockhead caught against her entrance with each teasing drag, the swollen tip notching against her clenching opening—so close, so 'maddeningly' close—before pulling away again, leaving her trembling thighs and dripping slit aching for the brutal fullness she suddenly craved more than breath. Said breath hitched—not in fear now, but in determination—as she suddenly pushed her right hand against the dragon's scaled chest in a bold, almost playful attempt to roll him onto his back.
Of course she couldn't budge him, not truly, but his slit-pupils flared in amusement as he indulged her, allowing himself to be guided, abruptly ceasing his ministrations as he rolled onto his back with a slow, expectant arch of his scaled brow. She steadily got to her hooves and planted them on either side of his scaled hips, straddling his waist with deliberate grace, her left hand braced against the rippled planes of his chest—presenting herself fully to his hungry gaze. The dragon's nostrils flared as the candlelight caught the glistening swell of her vulva, pink folds parted and dripping, the plush cleft already swollen with arousal. His cock jerked violently against his abdomen, the thick shaft so rigid it lifted from his scaled belly on its own, pulsing with the need to plunge into that molten heat.
Her emerald eyes darkened with half-lidded appreciation as she gazed down at his throbbing length, her left hand wrapping around the shaft below the head with deliberate reverence, her fingers barely able to meet around his girth. With a slow, sinuous arch of her spine, she guided his slick tip to her dripping entrance, her tail curling elegantly over her left hip—out of the way—as her right hand reached back over her rump, slender fingers spreading her glistening folds wider, the pink flesh quivering at the teasing press of his cockhead. A shuddering breath escaped her parted lips as she rocked her hips forward, the thick crown catching against her swollen entrance, her inner muscles fluttering in anticipation of being speared open.
A slow, savage grin split the dragon's scaled muzzle, strands of saliva glistening between his dagger-like fangs as his barbed tongue flicked out—once, twice—lapping at the air as if already tasting her heat. Her knees trembled as gravity dragged her downward, her slickened walls stretching obscenely around just the throbbing crown of his cock—no more, her petite entrance quivering at the delicious intrusion. A moan ripped from her throat as her inner muscles fluttered in helpless protest while her fingers splayed against his scaled chest for balance. The dragon's growl reverberated through her bones, his barbed tongue lolling between fangs as he watched her struggle—those tight, glistening folds clinging desperately to the swollen tip of his shaft, her ivory thighs shaking with the effort to take just an inch more.
Leaning forward, she nestled under his head, her spiraled horn brushing his left shoulder as her cloven hooves braced against his inner thighs—both thrusting in unison now, her slick walls clenching rhythmically around his pulsing head while his scaled hips thrust upward, each savage snap of his pelvis driving another ragged moan from her throat. His right claw curved beneath the dip of her spine, supporting her arched back while his left flexed wildly in the air—clawing at nothing, as if he could physically seize the pleasure coiling tight in his belly. His scaled neck arched violently, jaws parting as he draped his muzzle over her shoulder, hot breaths gusting against her damp mane as her inner walls spasmed around the impossibly thick crown of his cock still barely seated inside her.
Her body seized first—back bowing violently as her inner walls clenched in rhythmic spasms around the swollen intrusion, her cloven hooves scrabbling against his scaled thighs as a choked moan ripped from her throat. The dragon's answering growl vibrated through the chamber, his cockhead pulsing within her as hot seed flooded her quivering channel in thick, possessive spurts. Collapsing sideways in a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked scales, they lay spent—her curved spine flush against the furnace of his scaled torso, his left draped possessively over her trembling hip.
In the guttering candlelight, their breaths slowed into sync, the dragon's rumbling purr vibrating through her ribs as sleep claimed them both.
After a short amount of time had passed a deep, guttural growl rippled through the dragon's belly—the hunger that first brought him here undiminished by their lustful actions—making his scales shudder against the unicorn's back as he snorted awake with a wet "snork?". The movement roused her and she stirred with a drowsy sigh, twisting in his arms until they faced each other on their sides, her emerald eyes half-lidded with sleep and lingering pleasure. His tongue flicked out again, tasting the air for prey-scent, but she misinterpreted the gesture, her breath hitching as her thighs squeezed together in affection—still slick from their coupling—her lashes fluttering at the imagined promise of another round.
Her cloven hooves dug into the quilt as she knelt upright with a half-lidded smirk, the dragon's golden head shifting beneath her left palm as she stroked the sensitive frills along his jawline—his answering purr vibrating through her fingertips. His forked tongue lolled between dagger—length fangs in a lazy, wet arc before dragging a glistening trail up the quivering plane of her belly, the rasping heat of it making her thighs tremble. She gasped as the tapered tip flicked over her navel, then higher, tracing the shallow dip between her breasts with torturous slowness, her nipples pebbling beneath his breath as his muzzle nudged possessively against hers.
Her left palm settled against the ridged bridge of his nose, warm against the cooler scales as she leaned in—lips parting in a slow, deliberate kiss pressed between his flaring nostrils. His breath hitched, hot gusts puffing against her cheeks while her right hand slid between his dagger-fangs with fearless grace, fingers curling around the thick, forked muscle of his tongue mid-flick. A shudder ran through him as her flavor bombarded his senses, the barbed length twitching in her grip as he snaked it under her arm to swipe the barbed tip along her shoulder.
She released his tongue with a wet 'pop' and eased herself forward onto the quilt, her belly pressed flush against the rumpled fabric as she arched her spine—presenting the smooth expanse of her back to him. The dragon's coiled tail slid like molten gold from her right shoulder, gliding down the dip of her side in a sinuous caress before looping possessively through her own slender tail, their appendages braided together. Her fingers trailed absently along the scaled length of his tail as she glanced back over her shoulder, emerald eyes dark with anticipation, while his barbed tongue rasped up the delicate hollow of her back.
Unbeknownst to her, his appetite had shifted—no longer craving the warmth between her thighs, but the yielding flesh of them. His jaws parted near her legs with wet, clicking tension, his tongue lashing out to coil around her left thigh in a possessive squeeze. Then his jaws clamped around her hips with unexpected gentleness, her legs slipping into his throat like a foot into a sock, the unicorn mare's left palm pressing flat against his muzzle in surprise as he hoisted her effortlessly into the air, her fingers instinctively curling around the ridges of his upper and lower jaw as he drew her in closer, her emerald eyes widening in puzzled confusion rather than fear.
Her eyes widened—not in terror, but in stunned disbelief—as the dragon's hot tongue dragged up the length of her thigh in a slow, savoring lick, the wet rasp of scales against flesh making her hips jerk instinctively. His jaws shifted—not to bite, but to cradle—as he tilted his head and lapped at the crease of her hips, the rough heat of his tongue swirling against her sensitive skin in deliberate circles that sent involuntary sparks skittering up her spine. The realization struck like a hoof to the ribs—she wasn't being savored, but 'consumed'.
She twirled in his gullet until she lay prone within his maw, her shoulders sliding effortlessly past his fangs, throat muscles undulating around her in slow, sinuous pulses until only her head remained free now, her spiraled horn scraping against his upper lip as she twisted to look back at him. His golden eyes held no malice, only the serene focus of a predator fulfilling its nature—her trembling body just another morsel to sate the endless hunger. The pain wasn't from crushing jaws—his teeth never pierced—but from the cruel clarity that their coupling had been nothing more than a prelude to the feast. His tongue coiled beneath her chin in one final, almost tender lick before the swallowing rhythm dragged her irrevocably inward.
Her spiraled horn scraped against his mouth before snapping free with a brittle 'pop', rolling onto the quilt like discarded ivory. The dragon's throat convulsed—smooth muscle rippling—but her left hand shot out in one desperate lunge for liberation. Her tail jutted out next, twitching wildly, the gilded tuft flicking. The dragon's tongue curled around her flailing wrist in a mockery of tenderness, then dragged her under with a wet, final 'gulp'.
Her body convulsed once-a final, shuddering spasm—as the dragon's gullet squeezed tight around her, her vision tunneling to blackness before the plunge into his churning stomach could even begin. The last sensation was oddly peaceful: a sudden, hollow lightness in her chest as her heart stuttered and stilled mid-beat, her consciousness dissolving like sugar in hot tea before the acid could ever touch her. The dragon's throat flexed again, pushing her limp form downward with a satisfied rumble, oblivious to the mercy of her swift demise.
Now sated, the dragon sprawled across the unicorn's bed, his golden belly distended into a smooth, round swell that rose and fell with each lazy breath—her silhouette still faintly visible beneath the taut scales. One clawed hand idly twirled her spiraled horn between his claws, the ivory tip scraping against his fangs as he picked remnants of mane from his teeth with absent relish. His tail flicked once, sending the discarded book—its pages splayed open to the griffon mounting the pegasus-sliding off the quilt with a muffled thump. Outside, the wind vane creaked, its draconic silhouette now spinning freely in the evening breeze.
He dozed off with his belly pleasantly full, the unicorn mare's warmth still radiating beneath his scales. At dawn, his claw stretched across the rumpled sheets—expecting to find the curve of her flank, the dip of her waist—but grasped only empty air. The dragon blinked, half-asleep and stupid with contentment, before the memory of her final, shuddering swallow crashed into him like a rogue wave. His claw froze mid-reach.
Ah.
Right.
That.
A slow, incredulous snort escaped his nostrils—what had he thought would happen? That she'd somehow survive the night inside him, curled up like some domestic pet? Ridiculous. And yet... his gut gave an odd, uncomfortable twinge.
Not hunger. Something else.
He departed the castle, descending the winding stairs with heavy steps, his distended belly swaying slightly with each movement—unaware of the book levitating off the floor behind him, its leather-bound cover creaking open of its own accord. The pages fluttered to a new illustration: a unicorn mare sprawled beneath a golden dragon, her back arched in ecstasy as his barbed cock plunged deep between her trembling thighs. A disembodied whine echoed through the chamber—thin, desperate—as a hand-shaped indentation pressed against the parchment, fingers stretching toward the entwined figures in longing.
Back with the dragon, months bled by, and he kept waking with his claws outstretched toward empty space, phantom warmth lingering beneath his ribs. It was absurd. She'd been prey. Just prey. Yet his gut twisted every time he found himself reaching for her missing mane, his tail instinctively curling around nothing. The frustration coiled tighter each morning, hotter than hunger, sharper than thirst—until one morning he roared into the dawn, wings flaring wide, and plunged toward the nearest village in a spiral of reckless fury. Anything to drown out the ghost of her sigh against his scales.
But his wings faltered mid-beat—golden scales flashing in the dawn light—as the sound of cloven hooves on damp earth hit him like a physical blow. Below, mares and stallions with spiraled horns and shimmering manes moved through market stalls, their laughter rising like wind chimes. The dragon banked hard, tail lashing as he veered sharply away, his gut clenching around the long-digested ghost of her. He didn't hunt that day. Or the next.
Several days later his claws sank into the soft sands of a tranquil riverbank as he crouched low, golden eyes tracking silver flashes beneath the rushing water—his hunger had grown too insistent to ignore. He snatched fish after fish with swift precision, swallowing them whole until his belly bulged slightly with their wriggling weight. That night, curled atop a windswept cliff, sleep dragged him under with unusual gentleness.
In the dream, candlelight pooled across familiar quilts. The unicorn mare stretched beside him, her spiraled horn catching firelight as she smiled longingly at him, her emerald eyes crinkling at the corners. His tail curled instinctively around her waist, drawing her closer—her warmth real, her scent vivid. No claws, no fangs. Just her breath against his scales.
He woke at dawn with his own tail coiled tight around nothing once more, the phantom press of her body lingering like a brand.
Years, centuries worth, bled away, their passage marked only by the dragon's growing torment. Each dawn clawed him awake with the same cruel illusion—her warmth pressed against his scales, her scent clinging to his muzzle—only to dissolve into cold emptiness. He snarled, raged, plunged into battlefields and feasted until his belly strained, but no violence could purge the ache. Then came the morning when he woke upon the peak of the mountain where he'd bedded down with wetness searing his eyelids, his chest heaving in ragged, unfamiliar sobs, the despair so great it was like a physical wound.
The sound was alien, wretched, his pride shredded like parchment beneath the weight of longing. He curled his claws into the earth, shuddering, as the truth coiled in his throat: he would tear the world apart to have her back. His claws gouged deep furrows in the mountainside as he hunched over his own reflection in a puddle of his own tears—golden eyes hollow, scales dulled by years of gnawing guilt.
She hadn't just been prey. She'd arched beneath him with breathless trust, her emerald eyes alight with desire, and he'd repaid every gasp, every shuddering climax, by gulping her down like a mindless beast. The memory of her final moments—her palm pressing desperately against his jaw as his throat muscles dragged her under—flashed behind his eyelids every time he tried to sleep. His own stomach acid churned at the thought, his distended belly now a grotesque monument to his cruelty.
Suddenly, his claws raked across his own belly in a frenzy, golden scales parting beneath their razor edges as steaming blood spilled down his thighs in a futile attempt to touch her once more—but, through his inherit dragonic magic, the wound sealed shut before he could plunge deeper, his flesh knitting itself together with mocking efficiency. He roared into the empty sky, wings flaring wide as if to tear the heavens apart, but the only answer was the wind whistling through his frilled crest. The truth coiled in his gut like a swallowed stone: she was gone, digested, her very essence dissolved into the marrow of his bones.
He'd consumed her in every way possible, and now she haunted him from the inside out.
Unable to endure the gnawing hollowness any longer, the dragon surged skyward in a frenzy of beating wings, days blurring into nights as he hurtled through storms and scorching sunlight without pause. When her castle finally reared into view—its spires draped in ivy, its once-pristine courtyards choked with wild roses—he nearly plummeted from the sky at the sight. Time had softened its edges, moss creeping up the weathered stones, but the structure stood eerily intact, as if preserved by some unseen hand. The wind vane still creaked on its rusted hinge, its draconic silhouette frozen mid-turn, watching him.
The dragon's claws gouged divots in the stone as he scrambled up the stairs of the same tower where he'd spent that passionate night with the unicorn mare he so longed for, his wings scraping against the narrow walls in reckless haste—only to skid to a halt in the empty bedchamber. The quilt lay undisturbed, the book still splayed on the floor where he'd left it, the ghost of lavender clinging to stale air. His frills drooped.
What was he expecting? Of course she wasn't here. His tail lashed once before his gaze snagged on a faint shimmer—her spiraled horn, half-buried in the quilt's folds, still gleaming as if freshly polished. A growl lodged in his throat, part rage, part something worse.
The dragon curled into the moldering quilt, the unicorn's horn clutched tight against his chest like a talisman, his tail coiled protectively around himself—the way it once had around her. His golden eyes dimmed as he exhaled, his belly already hollowing with the first pangs of starvation. He wouldn't hunt. Wouldn't swallow another morsel.
If his magic wouldn't let him die by claw or flame, then he'd rot from the inside out, let her remnants seep back into the world through his crumbling scales. The wind vane outside creaked—approval or mockery—as his eyelids fluttered shut, her phantom warmth already curling against him in the dark. Days bled by, his belly contracting as his eyelids grew heavier, his breaths slowing into shallow rasps as starvation gnawed through his ribs.
The darkness behind his lids shimmered—not with pain, but with the faintest glimmer of spiraled ivory. Her horn, still pressed against his chest, pulsed warmth through his scales. His frills twitched. Maybe... maybe death wouldn't be emptiness.
Maybe it would be hooves clicking against stone, the scent of lavender, emerald eyes crinkling with that lustful smirk. His tail tightened around nothing—no, around her—as his consciousness frayed. Eternity seemed to stretch before him, an endless hunt not for prey, but for forgiveness.
Days continuously bled into nights, the dragon's ribs pressing sharp beneath his scales, but he didn't notice—didn't care—his claws curled around her horn like a drowning beast clutching driftwood. One night, as he lay half-conscious in the castle's ruined tower, the sky beyond the shattered window was abruptly blotted out by something vast and metallic, its shadow swallowing the stars whole.
