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Summary
He can't imagine this sort of soft intimacy with anyone else.
Not another alpha. Not a beta. Fuck, not even an omega, and everyone— everything their society is built on— says he should be finding this sort of intimacy with an omega. Someone soft and gentle with a sweet scent that will balance him out and complete him.
But he doesn't want a sweet scent.
He wants Lance's scent. Salty and fresh. Crisp like an ocean breeze. Musky and dark, earthy like a forest after rain. Smoldering like a fire that's been put out, wood heated and wet.
He's haunted by that scent. By Lance's scent. He smells it everywhere. Clinging to his clothes. To his skin. To the air around him long after Lance is gone. He finds himself craving it.
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An alpha/alpha dragon shifter story