Honey, honey, you're my favorite drug

Alastor didn't know how long he and Manea had spent ravaging each other absolutely senseless there on the beach, their snaps and snarls of passion drowned out by the waves of the ocean at their side. All he knew was that it was dark by the time he came down from his sex-fueled high, the sky a sea of stars with swirls of color from the borealis as it danced above their heads. Both Mendacium wolves were left disheveled and bloody, marked by one another's claws and teeth in the throes of passion. He could still taste lingering remnants of iron on his tongue. Had he bitten her hard enough to draw blood? Oh well, she deserved it. Dark eyes shifted down to the violet fae, unconscious and sprawled out across his chest. For a long while, the obsidian-furred wolf just watched his mate sleep, a calmness he hadn't felt in some time soothing his heart and mind and a sleepy smile making its way over his lips. One of his large paws stroked gently over her head while she slept, running his digits between her soft fur and grazing each of her ears in turn, running paw pads delicately over the ridges of her crests atop her crown.

Alastor contemplated just going to sleep here on the beach with her in the warm summer night, but the rocky shore was already starting to make his back ache. Carefully slipping from beneath his slumbering wife, Alastor slid her lithe body across his back and carried her back up into the woods, making his way with lumbering, tired steps through the pine trees and up the mountain paths until he had returned to the familiar space of their home. Slipping silently into the darkness of the caves, Alastor carried Manea all the way to bed, settling her down in the plush furs before curling up alongside her and gently pulling her back up to lay across his chest. Holding her in his arms, Alastor watched her sleep for a few minutes longer before deep, restful sleep finally took him.

- several hours later -

The giant wolf had slept soundly all through the night. The exhaustion that had drained his body and soul since their fighting had begun had left him far wearier than he realized, and while denning with Relm had been satisfying in many ways, it never truly restored him like this did. Here, he was back home, in his own bed, with his mate wrapped up in his arms, pleasant dreams dancing about in his head. Those blissful dreams were leisurely disturbed by the press of soft kisses to his sensitive throat, the sudden contact sending little shivers quivering through his form. His slow, steady breathing stuttered, and gradually those abyssal eyes peered open, staring blearily down at the purple fae draped across his body. The corners of his lips curled upward in a little grin while he murred in response to her affections, massive paws rising to settle on her back and stroking down her sides, following the smooth plains of taut muscles and feminine curves while Manea kissed up along his jaw and throat wherever she could reach. Now this was a nice way to wake up.

"Good morning..." he mumbled in husky tones beneath his breath as he drew in a deep breath, ever so slowly coming back to consciousness from such deep sleep, though he was still obviously very groggy. His paws kneaded at Manea's shoulders, massaging between her shoulder blades while she teased him and lay across him, wrapped around him like a fine cashmere robe. "This is a pleasant way to start the day..."

"Manea & Alastor Mendacium"