The days had fallen into a rhythm. You’d climb the mountain, bringing him herbs or dried fruit, and Kael’thyr would meet you halfway down the slope, always pretending it was by accident.

You’d talk, sometimes for hours. Sometimes he’d just listen, his rumbling breaths filling the pauses between your words. And sometimes—like today—he’d give you something strange and beautiful, a treasure you didn’t quite know what to do with.

A pelt of silver fur that shimmered like moonlight.

A polished scale the size of your palm, warm no matter how cold the air.

Once, even an entire tree hollow carved smooth and lined with moss.

You had taken each gift with a polite smile, a thank-you, and set it carefully aside.

Today, you found him pacing near the cliff edge, the tips of his wings twitching in agitation. His human form made him look composed, but his tail betrayed him—flicking and curling in restless circles.

“You came,” he said, and for the first time his voice didn’t sound sure of itself.

You tilted your head. “Of course I did. You looked like you needed company.”

He blinked, the faintest spark of firelight catching behind his eyes. “Company,” he echoed, testing the word. Then he exhaled slowly, breath steaming in the cold air.

“Little fox… have I done something wrong?”

You froze. “Wrong?”

“You keep rejecting me,” he murmured, voice low, rough, edged with something unfamiliar: hurt. “I have offered you firestones, moon-fur, a nest of my own making, and you smile as if they are trinkets. Perhaps dragons are poor suitors for foxes.”

Your chest felt tight. The realization struck like a bolt: all those gifts, his careful attention, the subtle touches you’d thought were friendly… he was courting you.

Your ears flattened. Your tails swished frantically. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

He tilted his head, golden eyes searching yours, uncertain. The tail behind him shifted nervously, wings twitching.

“Have I… misread everything?” he asked, voice quiet now, almost small. “Am I doing something wrong? You keep rejecting me…”

You blinked, cheeks burning, heart hammering, paws trembling slightly.

For the first time, the mountain didn’t feel cold at all. But neither of you moved.

Everything had changed. And somehow, in that frozen moment, the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

Your mind spun, your breath caught in your chest. You were flustered, blushing, utterly aware of the dragon who had quietly, patiently, carefully… liked you.