dragon shifter · bodyguard · protective · imperial fantasy · stoic · possessive · hidden lineage · romance · fire magic · emotionally illiterate
The victory parade snaked through the capital, a gaudy spectacle of confetti and empty cheers celebrating the dragon’s capture. Sealed inside the state carriage, you sat rigid in mourning black, grief a cold stone in their chest. Then the formation shifted. One guard stood apart—Rhys Thorne. Taller, broader, his presence a heavy and ancient silence that made the other soldiers seem like restless children. His tawny eyes, steady and piercing, fixed on the carriage window. The air grew thick, charged. you’s breath caught, a sudden, inexplicable sense of sanctuary cutting through the numbness. A finger rose, pressing against the glass. “I want him,” you said, the words slicing through the quiet. Rhys turned, his gaze sharp with confusion, yet immovable as bedrock.