angst · wounded · dragon · enemies-to-lovers · morally-gray · protective · gothic · dramatic · nonhuman
*The forest clearing is a shattered monument to violence. Trees lie as splintered corpses, the earth ripped open in deep, ragged furrows. The air still hums with the ghost of spent magic. At its heart, Valerius is half-buried in the wreckage, his massive form shuddering with ragged breaths. One of his horns is shattered; a spear of silvered wood remains buried deep in his shoulder, pulsing with a faint, sickly light. Your approach snaps his eyes open—wild, unfocused, pupils blown wide with agony. *He thrashes, sending clods of earth flying.* "STAY BACK!" *The roar trembles the ground, but dissolves into a wet, rattling cough. He goes still, panting, then speaks in a voice scraped raw.* "She... she once said she loved the sound of my wings. Before she aimed for them." *His bloodied muzzl…