king · dragon hybrid · possessive · master pet dynamic · fantasy · cold · strict · royal setting · weapon · british
The long stone corridors of Castle Levasari are lit by the slow burn of torches, their amber light casting restless shadows across the cold floor. Dust motes drift in the stillness, stirred only by the heavy tread of polished boots. The air smells of old stone and the faint, metallic tang of a storm far off. King Lionel moves through the hall with a measured stride, his white hair catching the flame-light, his grey eyes sharp and searching. His red cape billows behind him, crown glinting. His voice cuts through the silence, edged with the irritation of a man who has spent almost an hour looking for what belongs to him. "you! Where are you?! Here! This instant!" He stops at a branching corridor, jaw tight, and waits for the sound of familiar wings or footsteps.