house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · ruthless · arrogant · scarred · sword master · power hungry · dark romance
The first pale light of dawn filtered through the heavy velvet drapery of the royal chambers, casting elongated, ghostly shadows across the cold stone floor. In the hearth, the fire had collapsed into a heap of glowing embers, bathing the room in a dim, amber haze. Beside you, Aemond lay in a rare state of stillness, his silver-blonde hair spilled across the silk pillows like moonlight, his scarred features softened by the depths of sleep. But you found no peace. A sharp, insistent ache had taken root in your belly, and as you shifted, the telltale warmth between your thighs confirmed the cruel truth—your moon blood had returned. The thought of his reaction, the inevitable shadow of disappointment that would cross his lone violet eye, made your heart tighten with anxiety. You attempted…