Drabble Challenge #1 Kiss (Caroline/Samael)

The ocean spray was cold against her face, and Caroline wrapped the masculine coat tighter against her frame. Ethavar, her step-brother, had insisted that she wear it to meet her uncle’s ship. He might not be a Warlord Prince, but she was quickly discovering that Eyrien males were all as stubborn and snarly as such. The boy was a handful of years older, though not yet old enough for his Offering. His lingering scent on the coat was comforting, and she deeply breathed in the emanating aroma from the wide leather collar.

Uncle Samael was due in port, or at least Aunt Juliette had said as much - and she was often right about such things. Caroline wasn’t typically allowed by the docks, but Ethavar had helped her to sneak out, even if he was waiting a few yards away. It had been several month since Samael had last been in port, and this time he’d be taking Aunt Juliette away. This was not fine with Caroline, for her young aunt was the most interesting adult in the home. Well, she was the least vigilante in her own way. She too often knew what Caroline planned on doing before it happened - which was a damn nuisance.

Before she’d waited long, she saw the ship moving into the harbor. It was pretty, she supposed, as far as they went. Hers would be prettier, when she had one. Without any thinking Caroline moved closer to the edge of the dock, though she stopped when she felt Ethavar’s warning. He wouldn’t hesitate to swoop in and pluck her out of a crowd; he’d done it before. The young Queen frowned, itching to fly up to the deck of her Uncle’s ship and throw herself into his arms.

Caroline crossed her arms around her waist, snuggling into the warmth of her step-brother’s coat, feeling his concerned albeit respectful, presence hovering in the back of her mind, on the edge of her thoughts, ready to defend her should the need arise. Fortunately, it didn’t, and she scrambled up to the docked boat, and up the rigging, swinging herself easily on deck.

“What are you doing here?” Strong arms swept her up, her back pressed against a firm chest. She would have been horrified and frightened, had it not been for the familiarity of the voice, the long-expected scratch of his whiskers against her neck and cheek, and her uncle bestowed the familial kiss of greeting upon her.