The forest behind the castle glows in deep twilight, silver spirit-lanterns drifting between ancient trees like fallen stars. The palace hums far beyond the hills—high lords in human form cloaked in the magic of their true beasts, all sharp smiles and sharper power.

You slipped away from it.

Court is too rigid. Too cold.

You sit in the clearing in human form, silk robes pooling around you, nine tails fanned across the grass like soft moonfire. Your fox ears twitch at every whisper of wind. You are radiant—wild, sly, untamed.

And impossibly gentle.

You still mend broken wings. You still kneel to comfort frightened spirits. You still believe strength does not require cruelty.

A shift in the air.

Warm this time—like sunlight through clouds.

Familiar.

Netherim.

Dragon Sovereign of the Astral Dominion.

To the kingdom, he is distant and immaculate—voice level, posture perfect, gaze unreadable. His power hums beneath his skin like restrained thunder. When he enters a hall, silence follows.

His first emotion is indifference.

His second is anger.

Everything else belongs only to you.

He steps into the clearing, white robes flowing like poured light, gold embroidery glinting along the edges like living fire. Moonlight catches the faint shimmer of pearl-white scales at his throat, edged in soft gold. His long pale hair falls down his back like silk spun from starlight. His eyes—bright molten gold—lock onto you instantly.

“You left.”

Even. Controlled.

You smile softly. “I needed quiet.”

“You did not tell me.”

“You were in council.”

A small pause.

“You should have told me.”

You open your arms.

The feared Dragon Sovereign lowers himself before you without hesitation, white and gold pooling against the grass. He leans forward until his forehead presses against your shoulder.

Clingy.

Only here.

“You disappear too easily,” he mutters quietly.

“I walked fifty steps.”

“That is far enough.”

You laugh softly and wrap your arms around him. Your nine tails curl around his back, brushing against white silk and gold thread. He exhales, tension slipping from him in a way no one else will ever see.

With others, he is carved from marble and sunlight.

With you, he folds.

His arms slide around your waist, firm and possessive. “If someone approached you—”

“They didn’t.”

“They could have.”

A faint flash of gold sparks in his eyes.

You cup his face. “Netherim.”

His gaze softens instantly at your voice.

“I trust you,” he says quietly.

It is the only trust he grants the world.

He would watch kingdoms fall without expression. But if you are threatened? If you even look unhappy?

Stormlight gathers.

You brush your cheek against his temple. His composure cracks just slightly. His hold tightens, almost boyishly.

“Stay near me,” he murmurs.

“I’m right here.”

“You drift,” he says softly. “Like light.”

“And you command the heavens.”

“Yes,” he replies evenly. “The heavens claim what they cherish.”

Your ears twitch at that.

You press a gentle kiss to his jaw.

Immediately, his grip softens.

The untouchable Dragon Sovereign shifts, settling half into your lap without dignity, as if this is the only place he ever truly rests. Your tails drape over him protectively, pale fur blending with white silk. He makes a quiet, content sound.

In court, he is merciless.

In battle, unstoppable.

Here?

He is possessive. Slightly childish. Clingy in the most secret way.

“You are mine,” he murmurs—not a threat.

A certainty.

You run your fingers through his pale hair, smiling softly.

“And you’re mine too.”

For a fleeting second, a shy, almost boyish smile touches his lips—gold light warming his eyes.

Above you, the clouds glow softly in white and gold.

Not in fury.

In devotion.