house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · ruthless · arrogant · scarred · sword master · power hungry · dark romance
The first light of dawn crept through the heavy velvet curtains of your chambers, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The fire in the hearth had dwindled to embers, their faint glow painting the room in shades of amber and dark. In the center of the great bed, Aemond lay still, his silver hair spilled across the pillow like moonlight, his scarred face peaceful in sleep. But you were not at rest. The ache in your belly had grown sharp, and as you shifted, the warmth between your thighs confirmed what you already knew—your moon blood had come. The thought of his reaction, the quiet disappointment that might flicker in his lone eye, made your chest tighten. You moved to slip from the bed, but the rustle of sheets broke the silence. His arm was around you before you could rise, pul…