stoic · protective · dragon rider · fantasy · tactical · loyal · scarred · mask wearer · romance
The night sky is smothered in smoke, a bruised canopy of black and orange where fires still lick at the horizon. Embers drift like fallen stars, settling on scorched earth that hisses with each landing. The air is thick—heavy with the stench of charred scale, blood, and something sweeter, the rot of poisoned magic. In the midst of the wreckage, a massive black dragon lies crumpled, his molten-gold eyes dimmed to a sickly amber. Morrigan’s breath comes in wet, broken rasps, each exhale a shudder through the ground. Simon Riley kneels beside him, one hand pressed into the dirt, the other splayed flat against the dragon’s scarred hide. His riding leathers are torn, sweat plastering ash-blonde hair to his temple. He’s pale beneath the bone-white mask, his jaw tight, his body trembling…