Could there ever be another that she trusts so completely, so wholly? The bond between them is a lifeline and the very thing that initiated the trust between them. Honestly, if they had not met and the bond had not formed, Aithne would likely still be alone as she had been before, holding each wolf at a paw-length away from her with flashing teeth and mistrusting eyes. There was never any doubt with the bond that Praetor was what he claimed to be. A gentleman and a protector. While she had thus far had no reason to call upon his protecting skills (other than at the hunt) Aithne was certain that Praetor would always be there to help should she need. He was a constant in her life, a rock in the swells that grounded her. It is because of this that she has grown so close to him, allowing him to touch her where before such touch was abhorred. Each new touch lingers and spreads and she craves more of it and more of him even if she is confused by such things.

She craves him, above all.

Aithne can feel his pleasure in their link and it mimics her own as she presses into him. The very scent of him soothes away her worries and fears and in this moment, in this clearing with him, she is at peace once more. Some nights she had lain in her den wishing, in an uncertain sort of way, that she could have him there with her. Even if not to touch, at least to see and smell. Did he wish the same? This is all so foreign to her even after all this time. What comes next? Does anything? Maybe Praetor cared for her as only an imprint must and perhaps he did not wish it but was forced to it. While she knows this to be false by the way he leans into her touch it is still something that nags at her, a curiosity that cannot be quenched.

Praetor is like the cold to Aithne's flame. He is patient and everlasting and she is flaring and bursting and dying, a constant struggle, and that is why he completes her. Dark green eyes seem to fall into the lavender ones as he gazes upon her and her maw parts on a sigh of relaxation. He is her medicine and her therapy and how has she gone so long without his company?

She would be back, Praetor says, and Aithne frowns because she feels that Raven should already be back. She does not know the feeling of those who enjoy wandering, she cannot fathom that and regardless of whatever Raven has for being gone, it is unfair to leave her Empress and friend without word. Still, Praetor means to be comforting so she nods slowly at him before catching on the sadness in his voice. He misses his family and while she knows it is of no fault of hers, she almost wishes to stride out of Iromar at this moment and drag all his family back just to cheer him up. At least Vesper was here. "They will return in due time," she says to him, because what family would stay away from a son such as Praetor or a brother like him?

It heartens her, in a selfish way, when he talks of Glorall as a thing of the past and she closes her eyes and leans her forehead into his, enjoying the thrill of such close contact that before would have sent her into a frenzy. His words make her eyes snap open, her heart clench, and she tenses as he pulls away and stands to move before her. What was going on? She tracks him with an uncertainty in her eyes, a hope that dares flare in her chest while her breath seems nonexistent.

I love you. Those simple words cause an expulsion of breath from her lungs in a startled gasp, ears flicking back not in anger but in surprise before flicking forward again as she seems to strain towards him. She can see the way he stands with his own reserves, the fear that must linger within him at having revealed such a declaration, and she slowly stands. She is quiet, perhaps for too long, before she opens her mouth and her coarse voice comes out crackling. "I... love, you too," she says in a rush, faltering in the midst of it and looking completely lost. "I want you beside me. I am sorry that I have not told you such before." Aithne is a fish out of water in this moment and yet she hopes that her answer is the right one as her tail arcs across her back slowly and a tentative smile burgeons on her maw. "This means you will be my Emperor, you realize? Ruvindra said that you would have been a Prince of the marshes and here you are, skipping that and becoming a ruler." Now her smile turns into a grin as she feels a sudden lightness over her and her tail moves faster. She steps towards him and slowly brushes her cheek against his before licking him.

Six - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne