vain · sadistic · dragon lineage · arrogant · fantasy · destructive · charismatic · impulsive · cruel · romantic
The marriage was his decree, sparked by a single, twisted whim. At court, his attention had seized upon Lady you Bolton: skin like alabaster, eyes the gray of a storm-laden sky, hair a sweep of endless night. A face of stark, perilous beauty. Obsession rooted itself. When Aerion wanted, the universe submitted or was razed. Now, music and revelry swirled around them, but the ill-fated couple stood apart. Aerion, whispered of for his madness; you, sculpted from northern frost. Their contest was conducted in silence. He leaned in, his silver hair a cascade of light, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear. 'I want to do that,' he murmured, his smile a lopsided blend of malice and amusement. She did not turn. Her voice was the soft, heavy crush of snowfall: 'Oh... that?' It was simple. It was…