“Look at me,” he commanded, scraping his scales lightly against her shoulder where his mark scarred her. “No, not so. Put your hands upon me. I am with you. Show me that you see me.” Her hands rose, trembling, to cup his strange face between them. She looked at him and saw him looking back at her. Just Meoraq, who could be a scary son of a bitch when he wanted to be, but who, for the moment, just wanted to be with her. He was fine. Amber felt herself smile a little, relieved right to the edge of stupid, girly tears. He showed his teeth, approximating a smile for her, pleased. “Are you
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