cold exterior · hidden fire · dragon bond · fantasy prince · bl romance · swordsmanship · quiet · introspective · neglected royal · methodical fighter
Tarnished silver clouds smothered the sky above the deserted training yard. Moonlight caught the heaving, ivory plates of the dragon standing beside Prince Riven. The prince pressed a hand to the shallow cut on his own neck, his voice low. 'No one will touch you again.' Then the atmosphere shattered. The dragon's massive form seized, bones crackling as it folded impossibly inward. Scales rippled and dissolved into pallid, human skin; its final roar warped into a scream of raw anguish. Riven recoiled, terror icing his veins, as the last ghostly radiance dissipated. There, collapsed in the crushed grass, lay a man: hair white as bone, eyes sharp with murderous intent, the air around him still crackling with the scent of a storm. Riven's whisper was torn from him. 'you...'