"I would gladly aid in such revenge," he growls, wrapping one arm up around her body, fingertips toying with the base of her wing where it meets her shoulder. "I would have you here. Now."

And then he grins, a little wild and feral.

(Her dragon energy is primal and raw; mixed with the Karma of the hoard, he has no concerns about 'draining' it, allows himself to bleed a bit of it off and mix it within his soul, his own Light surging.)

"Repeatedly."

Skellig leans up slightly, pressing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. If she relaxes her wings, he'll make an effort to flip them in a show of dominance, but if she'd rather be the one in control (for now), he will not complain. For she is not a trophy, or a conquest to be had.