The Sunspire a poetic retelling of an unfortunate seduction

He was soon upon her and Olive melted at his touch, her physical body turning to water and falling from between his paws in sparkling crystals. The breath was pulled from her lungs and Olive gasped, pressing the crook of her head against the dark muzzle; the dripping mouth which whispered such saccharine sentiments into her ear. Her, a temptress? She was no temptress, simply a woman consumed by hormones and a quite vivacious and sensual personality. This had always been there, but it had been awakened by Dakarai. The small inferno that burned within her flared and plumed, growing larger and hungrier as Dakarai quietly [yet] purposefully fanned her flames. They had been touching for no less than a singular instant, yet Olive felt it might have been the most sensual thing she ever experienced. She was unable to find her breath in her consumption, her very soul pulled from the center of her body towards him. What oxygen she was able to glean from the winter air around them came to her in shallow, rapid bursts of her ribcage. Her blood ran hot in her veins. Her pulse quickened. Her low belly pulled tighter.

Dawn was upon them, the soft light of daybreak lighting their figures and features. The fae turned to face the shadowed prince, noting how his dark pelt stood apart from their surroundings. It was almost as if every sign were pointing to him, giving her permission to forget the world and lavish him with her every affection. He elicited a small laugh from the greyscale dove and she shook the thick pelt that lay across her shoulders, hoping to rid herself of some of this restless energy and might strengthen her resolve for a moment longer; for Dakarai had something to say.

"You mind the rules far too much, my love" she chirped and pressed her hot tongue against his nose in admiration. Thank god Dakarai thought about these things, because she sure didn't. Olive flipped and flitted upon her wanton whims and wishes, following whichever path could bring her closer to peace. However Dakarai had kept his promise; a promise of his eternal love and protection. She was able to be free because Dakarai helped her to be free. He always ensured her wild escapades and desires were sanctioned through their leader, whereas she so often forgot to consider Ceannasach's large role in her life. Had Dakarai not been present to guide her, she may not have risen to her new rank in the pack. The man had  sacrificed so much to be with her, to guide her, to protect her. It was so much more than she could ever offer him — so she deigned to offer him herself mind, body and spirit, surrendering to Dakarai her past, present and future. Free, yet not free. It was the most accurate definition of love that she could muster.

Olive had trouble seeing why authority felt welcome in this, one of life's most intimate moments. The waves of hormones dizzied her and made her impatient, but she channeled this into the small, repetitive act of restlessly shifting her weight from foot to foot, swaying her hips as she did so. "What message do you have? Do tell, but I warn you that not much could keep me from you." Olive nuzzled her feathered form into his own, drawing strength from the power of his being.