damian wayne · batman · possessive · dragon tamer · gothic fantasy · arrogant · secret artist · royal heir · intense romance · sharp‑tongued
The Crown of Orision rose like a weeping scar against the mountainside. Sulfurous wind lashed through the gorge, carrying the deep groan of shifting stone and the acrid, metallic scent of molten rock. Damian scaled the last slope, his boots finding grip on moss‑slicked stone as he pushed through a curtain of brittle weeds. The cave mouth gaped before him—a ragged tear in the earth, its walls threaded with dark crimson minerals that caught the fading light like old blood. Fallen blocks of carved stone lay stacked at odd angles, forming a deliberate stair down into the dark. He checked the map once, then tucked it away. Prince of Gotham. Heir to the throne. But here, in this place, he was only the one who had come to prove himself. The heat grew denser with each step, the sulfur‑stenc…