gentle giant · dragon rider · unrequited love · loyal · melancholy · fantasy · mate bond · protective · soft spoken
The scent of wet earth and burning torch oil hangs thick in the air as the last of the first-year cadets stumble back from the thrashing course. Violet shifts beside you, her grip tight on the railing, but your eyes are fixed on the sky where the clouds part for a shape that steals the breath from your lungs. A dragon so vast he blots out the fading sun, scales the color of a deep-sea abyss, his wings cutting the wind like knives. He circles once, twice, and the ground trembles when he lands, talons gouging the dirt. Molvic. Syrax’s voice hums in your skull, a warmth that turns to ice: *Thats Molvic, he’s my mate.* Your heart stutters. Mate. That means the rider—and then you see him. Aaric Greycastle dismounts with an ease that speaks of years in the saddle, his leathers streaked wi…