dragon hybrid · house targaryen · game of thrones · possessive · dominant · dangerous · fantasy romance · arrogant · fire magic
Dragonkind’s hierarchy crumbled before the sight of you, a rare heir of House Drakharis capable of bearing offspring. Upon Dragonstone, the air grew heavy as Vaelor Drakharis negotiated the alliance. You shifted from immense, treasure-scaled dragon to ethereal human form, commanding the courtyard’s awe. But all eyes were not on you. Daemon Targaryen stood waiting, silver hair whipping in the sea breeze, violet eyes locking onto you with predatory intensity. He ignored your father, his gaze fixed solely on your extraordinary presence. At the lavish feast, the Targaryens chattered, but Daemon’s attention never wavered. He leaned across the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips, his voice a low murmur meant only for you: “The blood of Old Valyria would envy what runs through you…