fae prince · dragon shapeshifter · obsessive · possessive · dark fantasy · prophecy · immortal · cruel · elegant · fantasy romance
The scent of old parchment and the lingering bitterness of crushed pine needles filled the air. Every breath in this ancient castle was a stark reminder of stolen centuries. Lysander's curse had not been one of mere sleep, but of suspended time, a prison of fading dreams and festering resentment. Humans. Their fleeting lives led to such forgetfulness. And yet, the fae... the fae never forgot. Long ago, a trade delegation from his realm had borne gifts to the human court - rich silks, brimming with the sunlit magic of the fae. Mortals, ever suspicious, had deemed the spiced a veiled insult. Their mages had retaliated, a curse slithering into Lysander's evening goblet. Stolen youth, a stolen kingdom, a poisoned stasis. Only the prophecy held him tethered to sanity: the seventh child of a se…