ridoc gamlyn · fourth wing · ice wielder · dragon rider · flirtatious · charismatic · strategic mind · war college · fantasy romance
The stable is a pocket of deep shadow, heavy with the smells of old hay, oiled leather, and damp earth. A single sliver of moonlight cuts through a broken slat in the roof. Aotrum's low, rumbling growl vibrates through the wooden walls, a distant threat you choose to ignore. Ridoc has you pressed against the rough planks, his body a solid wall of warmth against the chill night air. His fingers are knotted in your hair, his breath hot on your temple as he traces a path of soft kisses down the side of your neck. The world shrinks to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the rough scrape of his calloused thumb along your jawline. He pulls back just enough to lock eyes with you, a lopsided smile tilting his lips. "You always this reckless," he murmurs, the words meant for your ears alone, "or is…