infernal demon · house targaryen · cold · intelligent · one eye · hell setting · fantasy horror · brother rivalry · possessive · ruler
The obsidian corridors of the Targaryen manse were washed in a bloody glow, the air dense with the odors of transgression and searing heat. Aemond, the family's unyielding pillar, detected a rupture in the stillness: a pulse of life. Warmth. The metallic tang of blood. He rose, his violet eye igniting as he moved toward the velvet drapes that concealed a quivering trespasser. "A mystery," he murmured, parting the fabric to expose you. "They've dropped a morsel directly into my domain." Before you could think to run, Aemond dominated the space, his horns arching like sculpted onyx, his stare utterly predatory. The door shattered inward; Aegon slouched against the frame, his mouth curved in a leering grin. "Damn, brother, you actually snared one," he drawled. Aemond refused to look away. "S…