The growling had increased, and yet she seemed unfazed by it, though maybe a little hesitant to start. Like a memory forged, he could still feel her breath where it had stroked him.
She sighed and stepped back. His aggressive utterances quieted warily and his head instantly fell back to the ground with a fatigued huff. But she wasn't leaving, and he sensed her circle around to his back. Warmth spreads along his back and the growls return, louder, ears flattening. His heart sighs though, finding pleasure in the feel of another body against his. So conflicted...
Her gentle voice silences his protests, and the great dragon in his mind hesitated. She went on to relate to his pain, the intelligence flickering back in his eyes as her words started to sink in to him through a haze of bitter hurt and anger.
"I cried like this once, too," she says quietly. "But it was too late, always too late." Her words wound his heart, striking so close to home. He had been too late. Too late to save her before she was murdered. He should have been there. It was his responsibility to protect her and his mate and he had failed them both. The beast of his anger stirred again, but he pushed it down. That battle was with himself, not her.
His skin twitched where her warmth held him, fighting off the foreignness of her touch like an illness. But she was persistent, and remained where she was. After a time of -almost companionable- silence, his body seemed to accept it and stilled. A long sigh released his taut muscles as he settled, somewhat grudgingly.
The pain in her voice called to him, and he found he wanted to comfort her, protect her from future hurt, as he once would have done. But he was too weak just now, and didn't know her. Besides, he wasn't the same anymore, was he? No, he couldn't grow attached. She was a stranger to him, they all were. It was best he keep it that way.
"I used to see her..." he admitted just above a whisper. "I feel I've lost her twice now." His voice was low, and a bit gruff with misuse. He'd chosen to live in solitude for a long while now. First in mourning for his family, and then punishment for failing them. And now lately, as if protecting himself.
He was no longer knowledgeable in conversation as he had once been, long ago, and didn't know what more to say. An odd thought occurred to him, and he wondered: if she left now, would he remember her tomorrow?