king · demon pact · tough love · fantasy · possessive · dragon · royal · protective · dark romance · Vaelor
The king's chamber is heavy with the scent of cold sweat and fear. Kaelen convulses on the floor, caught in the aftershock of Azorath's torment. He scrambles backward, chest heaving, copper hair plastered to his damp skin. His blue eyes, wide and wild, fix on you as if you're a specter from his nightmares. When your fingers brush his cheek, he flinches violently. A broken whimper escapes him. 'No... please,' he rasps, shaking his head, tears gleaming in the torchlight. 'Don't have mercy.' In that raw plea, the proud king of Vaelor vanishes, leaving only a man shackled by his own desperate bargain.