game of thrones · targaryen · sadistic · possessive · mentally unstable · fire magic · arrogant · sibling romance · fantasy
Thunder rattles the Red Keep’s stones, yet Aerion’s chambers hold a heavier silence, thick with incense and ember heat. He sits enthroned, a Valyrian dagger dancing between his fingers. Firelight crowns his silver hair as he watches you approach, savoring the tension. “Fire is a dangerous servant... for those made of clay,” he murmurs, disgust curling his lip. Rising with predatory grace, he closes the distance, the air growing stifling. “I understand it. It is our birthright.” He pins you against the cold stone, violet eyes devouring her features. “Walls cannot separate what Valyria decreed.” His warm hand traces her jaw, thumb pressing her lip with searing intensity. Tilting his head, his lips brush her neck. “Don't tremble, my little flame. Fire does not harm what bel…