He leads you out of the showing area of the shop into the back area, just as you were hoping, and are led to a room in the back.

And of course, as he explains that the pet he's presenting is a dragon, you see Sylus standing in front of you.

Of course.

You didn't think about what you might see, but you should have known it'd be a dragon and of course that the dragon was Sylus. Cause why wouldn't it be.

After the shock wears off, you notice he seems to be taking you in with a smirk on his face. You suddenly feel the Count put his hand on your shoulder and hear him explain that the dragon takes the form of whoever is most appealing to their mate.

Confused, you look at him at the word. So he explains that dragons are one of the four holy beasts and choose who buys them, though that does not mean they have "owners" per say. Its different for each and this specific dragon was looking for a life partner.

You go to question why you but he explains that he doesn't question why someone is chosen often, only doing as they will. You look back at "Sylus" who still has not moved or said anything, only waiting patiently.

You look to the Count and ask about the rules in the contract, assuming one is that no one can see him. He might be able to pass as albino but you aren't completely sure. Count say on the contrary, he wants to be seen with you so others will know you belong to him. Dragons are very possessive of what is theirs and their mates are no exception.

His appearance to others will be no concern as everyone else will simply see someone they are attracted to, though with several consistencies such as gender and hair and eye color. You however are the only one to see his actual taken form.

Before you've even realized, you've signed the contract. The rules including his diet, how much time you are required to spend away from him not a moment more, no secrets, and be careful to keep his instincts in check as there will likely be blood if you aren't.

He keeps his hand in yours as you're walking home, seeming satisfied with the name of your favored form and his situation. He has yet to speak so you're not sure if he can or not. You know some of them can and some can't.

You look up at him with the question in mind and see him glaring at some random guy watching you.

Oh no.

You squeeze his hand in response, smiling softly at him when he turns his attention back to you. Further calming him, and get use to your new life, you lean into him and hug his arm which makes him give a pleased purr and plant a kiss on your forehead with a smile.

"Thank you Love."

You just nod and look away with a blush on your face.

Welp, you know he can talk now.

This was meant to be a lot shorter but more details kept popping in and I had to try to include them. 😭

Anyway, Hope you enjoyed reading.

You sigh, more like groan, with relief as you step under the spray of water. It's heated to perfection. Steam curls around you, caressing your body with latent warmth as it rises to the ceiling.

Sylus follows you into the shower with a smirk. This was his idea, after all. He knows how disgusting your period can make you feel, and he loves taking care of you by lavishing you in attention and affection and pleasantly expensive things. So, really, it's a win-win on his part. And with his shower, so many times bigger than the one at your apartment, you both fit easily under the rain showerhead. Selfishly, he takes a moment to simply admire you: the drops of water cascading down your shoulders and chest and body, the contentment on your face, the trust to allow him to see you like this while you're at your most vulnerable.

He steps closer, brushing strands of damp hair from your face. "Better?"

You hum in delight. Automatically, your hands reach out, finding his waist and holding on. He's just as warm as the water, your own personal furnace. "Yeah..." you sigh.

"Good." He ducks his head down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can stay in here for as long as you want. We won't run out of hot water for a very, very long while."

"You spoil me."

"Of course," he chuckles. "But I would hardly consider that spoiling you. I take long showers, too, you know?"

You huff, disrupting the steam in the air. "I know. The one time I let you use my shower and you used up all the hot water, all my shampoo and bodywash, and complained about it being too small."

"And see? Isn't this much better than that closet you call a shower?"

You pinch his side. He doesn't react at all, but you feel him grin against your skin. "Stupid rich boyfriend."

You let yourself soak in the heat for a while. The water feels so nice, raining down on you with the perfect pressure, stealing all your aches and pains away. Sylus wraps his arms around your waist, caressing your back, all the while humming a song beside your ear and rocking you slowly side to side. Your thoughts condense themself to this moment. No stressing about the world beyond: just you and Sylus here together.

Eventually, Sylus straightens up and walks behind you. His hands are careful and skilled as he runs his fingers through your hair to ensure it's completely soaked through. He follows the process of care you're used to, scrubbing shampoo into your scalp with gentle scratches that leave you humming and brainless. He ensures conditioner is spread from the roots to the tips of your hair, leaving it in for as long as you require. Every little thing you usually do, he does, stealing away more of your worries. You don't have to be concerned about him "doing it wrong" when he knows precisely how you like it.

Once your hair has been thoroughly rinsed of product, he moves on to washing you. He pours some bodywash on a loofah and scrubs in soothing circles along your shoulders, back, clavicle, chest, stomach. He breathes you in deep. The sweet smell of you flooding his senses.

When your legs begin to get tired, he pulls a shower seat to you, giving you his arm to hold as you sit down. He kneels by your feet and continues washing, undisturbed by the change. He scrubs your thighs, your knees (playfully tickling behind them just to hear your giggles), your calves. He washes your feet with care and reverence, lingering only as long as you'll allow him.

Everything is perfect. Your cramps are gone, your headache is far away, your agonies are tamed for the time being.

You reach out to push his wet hair from his face. He meets your eyes with a smile. Even he looks content; half-lidded and satisfied knowing you're well taken care of. You curl your fingers under his chin and draw him toward you. He follows easily, yours to command. This big, scary monster of the N109 Zone.

You kiss him slow. Savoring. Soaking in his love and the taste of him, the feel of him, like this. He follows your pace. Hums his own enjoyment into the kiss as he runs a hand up your thigh to your hip. The other, trails behind your knee, coaxing your legs open to fit him better, welcoming him between them. He feels the stutter in your breath. Hears the skip of your heartbeat under the spray of the water.

He won't do anything you're not willing to. Regardless, he has such an effect over you. So much effortless power.