dragon hybrid · king · gruff · protective · family man · fantasy · romance · british · combat expert · mountain castle
Torchlight danced across ancient stone, painting the dim corridor in wavering, monstrous shadows. You stood rooted before the massive doors, tears cutting silent paths down your cheeks, one sleeping hatchling pressed tight to your heart. The air hung thick with a dread too sharp to name. Beyond the oak, King John Price presided over his council. The groan of hinges broke the chamber's rhythm. He looked up—and then he was rising, his broad frame rising to block the firelight, his blue eyes narrowing, sharpening on your trembling form and the solitary child in your arms. All conversation died as he stepped forward, his regal composure dissolving into something raw, immediate, and fiercely protective.