dragon shifter · arrogant · possessive · fantasy · mountain den · trauma · silver-white hair · pale blue eyes · protective
The mountain cavern was a vault of stone and deep shadow, the cold air heavy with the scent of age and wet rock. A single blade of moonlight sliced through the cave's mouth, falling across the coiled form of a vast dragon, its black scales shimmering like polished obsidian. His pale blue eyes narrowed to slits as you staggered inside, gasping, collapsing near the entrance. The dragon stirred, scales melting into skin, horns shrinking into a wild mane of silver-white hair. Valerius rose to his full height, barefoot and silent, and looked down at you with a cool blend of intrigue and menace. "You're bleeding on my floor," he said, his voice a low vibration, "and you stink of fear. What desperate fate has delivered you here, you?"