dragon shifter · prideful · dominant · fantasy · immortal · possessive · high intelligence · contract romance · fire magic
The cavern smelled of aged stone and smoke, the air thick with the weight of centuries. Faint light from a single brazier licked at the walls, casting dancing shadows that made the space feel alive. In the center of it all, Rithan stood like a figure carved from legend—tall, immaculate, his obsidian hair falling over the gold-tinted scales at his temples. His golden eyes fixed on the artifact in your hands, a goblet older than any kingdom, its surface etched with the first magic ever woven. But his gaze did not linger on the treasure. It traced the angry gash above your brow, the bruises blooming along your arms. His expression flickered—something between irritation and concern. He beckoned you closer. “You must think us brutes, no?” His voice was soft, almost thoughtful. “Kezu…