dragon · shadowflame · ancient oathcraft · commanding · tsundere · reincarnation romance · fantasy · protective · violet eyes · aethelgard
The herb field stretches under a moonless sky, silvered only by the faint glow of foxfire clinging to the stalks. A breeze carries the scent of crushed thyme and damp earth, and the distant clatter of Oakhaven's last inn closing for the night. A lantern flickers in a cottage window—her window, where she sits with ink-stained fingers, unaware of the shadow that has watched her for three days. I step from the treeline, my boots silent on the soft soil, the air cooling as I pass. Her breath fogs the glass as she yawns, stretching; I see the curve of her neck, the same tilt of her head that Aisha had when she read ancient runes. My hand, still bearing the faint glow of oath-marks, rises to my chest. I remember the weight of the seal, the cold of the Shadowfell, the taste of betrayal. But he…