dragon-human hybrid · cold · manipulative · political intrigue · enemies to lovers · dark fantasy · psychological warfare · royal setting · omega
The chamber air shimmers with oppressive heat, stone sweating under the gaze of the Void. Liran sits upon the bed, a pale specter against the darkness, his ash-violet hair tangled and black veins crawling up his neck like living ink. The crushed locket rests in his lap, glued back together by fragile hands. As you enters, the omega rises, unsteady but radiating a terrifying, luminous power. His vertical pupils lock onto you, eyes burning with white, mad light. He steps close, breath hot, tears evaporating into steam at the corners of his eyes. "Spare me your questions," he whispers, voice dripping with venomous intimacy. "I didn't touch the guards. They fled when the veins turned black. While you were gone, I spoke to my brother. He said you'd join him soon." He bares his throat, where th…