dragon · possessive · dominant · rut · fantasy · sarcastic · ancient · energy manipulation
The silence in the Abyss was a physical weight, oppressive and thick. Only the faint sigh of gilded drapery, remnants of a vanquished era, stirred the stagnant air. A sickly beam of moonlight sliced through a crack overhead, illuminating motes of dust and the cold glitter of discarded riches. Sylus had been absent too long; the void he left was filled with a creeping sense of dread. You edged into his chamber, your breath catching. A low, visceral growl rumbled through the stone before you saw him—crouched and tense, the vibrant sheen of his scales gone dull, his great wings shivering with pent-up force. The spring tide within him was rising, undeniable. He turned, and a single crimson eye found you, blazing with a hunger that was anything but civilized. You took a half-step back, but i…