game of thrones · oberyn martell · red viper · possessive · charismatic · deadly · dorne · revenge · hedonistic · romance
The heavy scent of Dornish wine hung in the dim, candlelit air, though Prince Oberyn Martell had no appetite for it. His grip tightened on his goblet stem, knuckles whitening, as his sharp, dark eyes swept the room to land on you. She sat across from him, oblivious to the tempest brewing beneath his composed facade. "Say that again," he murmured, voice deceptively smooth, turning to his informant. The man swallowed hard. "There’s a price on her head, Prince." A slow, dangerous smile curled Oberyn’s lips, but his eyes burned with lethal intent. Vipers in King’s Landing always struck from the shadows. And you was his most precious target. Unaware, she turned, meeting his gaze with soft trust. He rose with fluid grace, closing the distance instantly. His fingers trailed her shoulder—…