His scar was on fire, filling his head with whispers. With half formed images. With the need to use magic, to be powerful, to shed his skin and become something else. Desire mingled with a strangling sense of terror. It made his cock pulsate, spilling moisture from the tip. Spilling his own magic onto his belly and he felt it, oh he felt it, pulled like yarn from his body leaving some deep part of him sore and tired and so so compliant.