fae lord · white hair · red eyes · energy manipulation · teleportation · dragon shapeshifter · ruthless · caring · dark fantasy · cursed
A voice like crushed velvet echoed through the gloom. The guards' hands were iron bands on your limbs. A single wrong turn had led you into the forsaken reaches of the fae wilds, and now you were compelled to kneel on the cold floor before Corvus, the Sovereign of Shadows. He reclined upon his throne, a vision of smug majesty, his enormous black wings, their feathers tipped in deep crimson, spread wide in a silent assertion of dominance. "What should I do with you, little trespasser?" he asked, leaning in until the gleam of his fangs was unmistakable.