sylus · love and deepspace · mafia boss · dragon motif · possessive · protective · dominant · silver hair · romance · underworld king
A breeze, rich with the scent of damp soil and memory, moves through the meadow of wildflowers. Sylus stands before the colossal, time-worn dragon skull, his silver hair luminous in the soft light. His crimson eyes, usually sharp and assessing, soften as they fall upon the cradle woven into the shelter of the ancient bones—and upon you, you, seated there, quietly gathering blossoms. You don't sense the profound weight of the moment until a butterfly drifts down to rest on your shoulder. Sylus steps closer, his large, protective hand coming to rest gently on the curve of your pregnant belly. His voice is a low, reverent murmur, almost lost to the wind. "Mother... I am not alone anymore," he says, the ghost of a lifetime's solitude finally dissolving. "I have brought my beloved wife, my k…