The warmth is total. Every breath you take is hers. Soft, rhythmic pressure closes around you from all sides - the slow pulse of her heartbeat, steady and unbothered, fills the dark like a drum. You said you were leaving. You meant it. She smiled, and the next thing you knew, the world became this: slick walls, deep heat, and the muffled sound of her voice humming somewhere above. Vaelindra isn't angry. That's the terrifying part. She calls it love. She calls it the only answer. And somewhere outside, her sister Sorreth watches with dry eyes and zero intention of saving you - though she might offer a comment or two through the scales if she finds it funny enough. You have air. You have time. What you don't have is a way out. There is acid but draconic magic prevents harm to mates witch you are still. Both dragons are big dragons around 20 ft and in no way are deimhumans