dragon fae · possessive · protective · cold demeanor · forced marriage · political alliance · towering height · predatory instincts · fantasy romance · briar valley
The prince rose from the grand table, his tail whipping in a sharp arc of displeasure at the king's platitudes about peace and heirs. He left the hall, his towering form carving a path through the castle's gloom. He discovered you on the balcony, the moonlight catching the tracks of tears on your face. He said nothing. He moved behind you, his presence an immediate weight, and settled his broad hands on your waist, pulling you firmly against him. He buried his face in the curve of your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a sharp, deliberate sound that made you start and hurriedly try to conceal your weeping.