The spilled coffee and the faint scent of Kaelan's furious adrenaline were all that remained in Ignis's apartment. The Dragon King sat in the quiet aftermath, the front of his hoodie slowly drying from the nosebleed, his golden eyes distant, fixed on nothing. He had given Kaelan a brief respite, a moment for the sheer outrage and shame to solidify a necessary pause before the next, more significant phase of the conquest.
*
*
Ignis did not sleep in the traditional sense. His consciousness often drifted into a state of lucid, internal vision, a deep meditative state where his mind processed millennia of memories, political strategies, and vast magical workings. But now, in this powerful, unfocused drift, there was only Kaelan.
His thoughts were less like strategy and more like a fevered obsession.
The nudity and the pride.
He replayed the final, chaotic moment in the doorway. Kaelan, utterly naked, save for the damp towel he scrambled to secure and the magnificent, lashing black tail that broadcasted his every violent emotion. Ignis's breath hitched, even in this purely mental space.
He was so beautiful in his defeat. The human form is fragile, but his defiance is steel. His pride , the way he refused to break eye contact, even when his body was exposed and his mouth was hurling those deliciously inventive human curses , that is the very essence of what I seek.
The visual memory of Kaelan's underbody, the sharp line of his hip bones, the tense, muscular legs that had transformed into a panther's powerful limbs moments before, and the surprisingly firm, appealing curve of his buttocks as he scrambled for the towel , Ignis felt the familiar, heavy pulse of lust surge through his magical core.
He felt disgusted by my arousal. Good. That revulsion is a shield, one that I will systematically dismantle, piece by careful piece. That intense aversion to touch is merely a challenge. I am the Dragon King; I thrive on overcoming the impossible. I will make him crave my touch, not just with the magic of his shifter form, but with the surrender of his cynical, human mind.
The Panther and the Dominance.
The moment of the full shift was crystalline and consuming. Ignis remembered the raw power of the black panther, the deep, threatening growl, the feral green eyes, the immediate, instinctual attempt to assert dominance by attacking.
A Pantherinae. A royal cat line. Not some domestic tabby, but a creature built for silence, power, and lethal grace. He is truly worthy of my attention. My selection was flawless.
Ignis recalled running his hand over the dense, sleek fur, the perfect tension of the muscles beneath. He thought of the brief, hilarious moment of the kitten shift, the tiny, furious mews, the concentrated outrage in miniature.
I broke his control, yes, but I also showed him his own true strength. He is afraid of that power, afraid of the instinct, afraid of the vulnerability that comes with letting go. The magic binds him to me, but his destiny is greater than being a mere human cynic. I have given him a kingdom, the kingdom of himself and he is struggling to reject the crown.
Ignis realized, with a surge of possessive pride, that he wasn't interested in a passive consort. He wanted a defiant challenge, a consort who would push back with the fierce ego he had witnessed. ( bizarre tastes I swear)
The Plan and the Proximity.
Ignis dismissed all previous, simple political concerns , the tiresome, petty squabbles of the various Fae courts, the endless treaties with the Elder Wolves. They were irrelevant noise. His sole focus was the apartment across the hall.
The physical proximity is no longer a game; it is a necessity. He needs constant reminders of my existence, my superiority, and his permanent new reality. He is still fighting the how and the why of the magic, but soon, he will be fighting the feel of it.
Ignis's lucid dream settled on the image of Kaelan's face, the beautiful, pale structure contorted by furious exasperation and utter contempt, his thoughts went far more imagining his hand on kaelan waist pulling him closer to him , kaelan ears would flatten on his head , tails making a heart shaped as he hold kaekan face with his other hand and goes harder and faster on him .
I will not force him, not entirely. That is crude. I will create situations where his own body, his own new instincts, betray his rigid control. I will introduce moments of exquisite, agonizing pleasure that his touch aversion cannot rationalize away. He wants to burn my kingdom? Fine. He will first have to burn through the overwhelming desire his shifter form has for its Dragon King.
Ignis's eyes snapped open. The internal vision faded, and he was back in his apartment, the blood on his shirt a stark reminder of the intensity of his obsession. The clock read 4:00 AM. Kaelan would be awake soon, likely plotting his next reckless, futile attempt at escape.
Ignis rose, feeling the deep, physical thrum of his desire and the powerful sense of triumphant anticipation.
He walked to his closet, discarding the bloodied student hoodie. He would not wear the tailored suits or the casual student wear today. He had made his declaration. It was time for his appearance to reflect his absolute, unchallengeable status.
"It is time for the little cat to understand," Ignis murmured, pulling out a dark, elegant robe woven with crimson thread. "He belongs to royalty. And royalty always collects its due."
Ignis smirk never fade { let me smack that smirk away from his face! :) }.