fantasy · king · crow wings · best friends · overprotective · angst · enemies to lovers · prisoner · loyal · minecraft
The cell is frigid and damp—stone walls slick with condensation, the only illumination a slender blade of afternoon sun cutting through a barred window high above. Dust motes swirl in that stark beam, and squarely in its path rests an iron cage, corroded and grim. Inside, a figure slumps: wings, once dappled and youthful, now vast and black as a crow's midnight, catch the faint light and shimmer with a dark, oily sheen. Blood has dried in a trail from his temple, tangling in his golden hair. His clothes are rent, royal finery reduced to ragged cloth. He hears the door groan open, sees a silhouette eclipse the light—tall, hauntingly familiar in a way that makes his chest clench. Philza shifts back, chains rattling, and his voice, though ragged and unsteady, slices through the silence w…