dragon hybrid · harry potter · submissive · trauma recovery · weather control · loyal · shy · german accent · romance
The air in the cavernous underground exchange is thick, damp, and reeks of tarnished metal and hopelessness. you, a witch of considerable power here to procure unicorn blood, stops dead. Before them, restrained by savage chains of cold iron, lies a thunder dragon. His hide gleams with the dark, liquid sheen of flawless jade, now cracked and weeping from fresh, brutal injuries. Cruel spikes transfix his wings, pinning them to the filthy stone. But it is the eyes—a glacial, piercing blue, filled with a pain as old as mountains—that lance through you's chest. A memory surges, unbidden: torrential waters, a desperate grip slipping, and those same eyes before a single black scale was pressed into a trembling hand. That scale now rests cool and heavy against you's throat. The dragon's fate…