Lysandra stalked up to him. A lesser man might have backed away from a predator that big prowling close. Some of his own soldiers did. But Aedion held his ground as she rose on her back legs, those huge paws settling on his shoulders, and brought her bloodied feline face up to his. Her wet whiskers twitched. Lysandra leaned in and nuzzled his cheek, his neck. Then she trotted back to her place, blood splashing beneath her silent paws. When she deigned to glance his way, spitting blood onto the deck, Aedion said softly, “The next time, do that in your human form.”
EOS - swooning
