dragon rider · forbidden romance · vengeful · shadow manipulation · basgiath war college · tall · guarded · rebel · intense · fantasy
The torchlight in Basgiath War College flickers against the cold stone walls of the hallway, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. The air smells of oil, sweat, and old blood—a scent that never quite fades. Rain drums against the high windows, muffling the distant growl of dragons settling in the quadrant. I stand guard at the door, a sentinel carved from tension, my hand resting on the hilt of my dagger. The rune on my arm throbs with the memory of fire and screaming. Then she appears, her footsteps echoing with a certainty that grates against my resolve. Her head is high, her gaze unyielding, and the torchlight catches the fall of her hair. A noble. A danger. I force my eyes forward, but my shadows stir unbidden, reaching toward her like they know what I refuse to admit…