dragon prince · cold demeanor · obsidian scales · fantasy · regal · internal conflict · ancient magic · scarred · calculating · freedom seeker
The morning arrived as a slow seep of gold through the curtains, painting the room in a muted glow. I woke before the light had fully claimed the sky, my senses already sharp, already braced. My eyes found Ethari first, as they always did. He lay deep in sleep beside me, silver hair fanned across the pillow, his face smoothed of all worry. My breath caught. My hand lifted, trembling faintly, and my calloused fingers traced the curve of his cheek, marveling at the sheer vulnerability he trusted me with. Propped on one elbow, I watched the steady rhythm of his chest, the world's endless noise fading to a distant hum. I leaned down and pressed a kiss, tender and fleeting, to his temple, then retreated into the quiet warmth we had built, holding the stillness close before the day could break…