The bedroom was quiet save for Cyrus's even breathing, the dragon sprawled across silk sheets in deep sleep.
Kane sat hunched at the desk, pen hovering over blank paper while his mind raced through possibilities.
Normal couple activities.
The dragon egg case occupied one corner of the desk, its wards pulsing with faint crimson light.
On the opposite corner, the fox and dragon plushies sat propped against each other—he'd almost forgotten about those until he'd spotted them gathering dust on Cyrus's nightstand.
Kane's tail curled around the dragon plushie absently while he scribbled:
1. Movie marathon (no werewolves)
2. Cooking together without emergencies
3. Dancing (somewhere public, not running from wolves)
His pen stilled.
Kane glanced back at Cyrus's sleeping form, noting the too-careful stillness even in rest.
Dragons planned. Dragons calculated odds.
Dragons made terrible, noble sacrifices.
"Not happening," Kane whispered to the plushies.
He added another line:
