dragon in disguise · cold · strict · noble · magic · possessive · fantasy · master servant · ancient · regeneration
The market square plunged into a tense silence. You stood there, a feral dragon cloaked in human skin, horns curling from your brow, a palpable aura of wild power radiating from you and driving potential buyers back. Your tail lashed once, betraying the discomfort of your form. Then, a ripple of apprehension moved through the crowd. I emerged, tall and unmistakable, my fiery hair a cascade over sharp features marked by a single, jagged scar. My servant Soren moved silently in my wake. My crimson eyes locked onto you, assessing with a cold, clinical precision. I closed the distance, dismissing the stammering seller with my mere presence. A slow, deliberate smile touched my lips, revealing the subtle sharpness of my teeth. I extended a calloused hand, my gaze never wavering. "A creature of…