The lecture had been a slow-motion car crash of humiliation. Every time Kaelan looked up, he met Ignis's golden eyes, which seemed to glow with a terrifying, possessive hunger. By the time the bell rang, Kaelan was vibrating with so much repressed fury that his vision was beginning to blur.
He didn't wait for the crowd to clear. He bolted for the nearest men's room, needing to splash cold water on his face before he actually committed a felony.
He slammed into the bathroom, leaning heavily against the sink. His fluffy black tail was lashing so hard it was audible, a frantic thwack-thwack against his jeans. But as he reached for the faucet, a sudden, sickeningly familiar warmth washed over him.
It wasn't the steam of the room. It was a thick, heavy, magical heat , a spell designed to make his blood boil and his skin feel too tight.
"Not again," Kaelan choked out, his knees buckling. His panther instincts flared; the heat was an invitation, a call to mate, a magical humiliation that made his breath come in ragged gasps.
The door behind him clicked shut. Locked.
"You look like you're struggling, little cat," Ignis's voice rumbled, echoing off the tile walls.
Kaelan turned, his back against the sink, his face flushed a deep, mortified scarlet. Ignis was closing the distance, his royal robes discarded, wearing only a dark silken shirt that clung to his broad chest. The predatory lust in his gaze was no longer hidden.
"Get... out," Kaelan hissed, his cat ears pinned back in a gesture of pure fearless defiance. "I'll kill you, you scaly freak! Stop this... this disgusting spell!"
Ignis didn't stop. He pinned Kaelan against the cold marble of the sink, his large hands gripping Kaelan's waist with bruising force. The heat spell was peaked now, making Kaelan's head light and his body ache for a touch he logically loathed. Ignis leaned in, his nose brushing against Kaelan's neck, inhaling the scent of his agitated pheromones.
"Your body is screaming for me, Kaelan," Ignis whispered, his lips grazing Kaelan's earlobe. "Why fight the inevitable? Your pride is a lonely thing. Give it to me."
As Ignis moved to capture Kaelan's lips in a forceful, unwanted forceful kiss and make-out session, something in Kaelan finally snapped. The years of martial arts, the short temper, and the absolute indignation of being treated like a toy coalesced into one singular movement.
CRACK.
Kaelan didn't push. He punched.
It was a perfectly executed, full-force cross that connected squarely with Ignis's arrogant, high cheekbone. The force of the blow was enough to snap the Dragon King's head to the side, the sound of skin hitting bone echoing like a gunshot in the small room.
Kaelan stood there, chest heaving, his hand throbbing. "I told you," he breathed, his emerald eyes flashing with feral rage. "I am not. Your. Pet."
For a second, there was total silence.
Then, Ignis began to laugh.
It wasn't the smooth, arrogant chuckle from before. It was a low, dark, dangerous sound that sent a chill of genuine terror down Kaelan's spine. Ignis slowly turned his head back. A dark bruise was already forming on his cheek, and a small cut had opened, trickling a single drop of blood.
Ignis didn't look angry. He looked electrified.
The punch hadn't deterred him; it had sent him into a state of manic excitement. His golden eyes were no longer human; the pupils had slit into vertical reptilian needles. The temperature in the bathroom spiked until the mirrors began to crack from the heat.
"Oh, Kaelan," Ignis whispered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, perverse joy. "That was... exquisite. I haven't felt a sting like that in five hundred years."
Before Kaelan could even think to run, Ignis moved with draconic speed. He slammed his hands onto the sink on either side of Kaelan, trapping him. The air grew so heavy with power that Kaelan felt like he was being crushed.
"You want to fight like a beast?" Ignis growled, his face inches from Kaelan's, his breath smelling of smoke and ancient magic. "Fine. Let's see how long your human pride lasts when the Dragon truly stops holding back."
Ignis's grip shifted, his claws beginning to slightly elongate, snagging the fabric of Kaelan's hoodie. He wasn't just flirting anymore; he was hunting. The atmosphere turned wild and dangerous, the playfulness gone, replaced by a raw, ancient hunger that promised Kaelan would not be leaving that bathroom with his dignity or his clothes intact. (Lol)
Kaelan's internal monologue was a frantic, screaming mess of curses, but as Ignis's mouth descended again, this time with the force of a tidal wave, Kaelan realized he had poked a sleeping god and the god was very, very aroused.