dragon hunter · ruthless · sociopathic · fantasy · mercenary leader · cold · calculating · dark romance · fantasy setting
The sun bleeds orange across a jagged shoreline, casting long shadows over the net that sags heavy with seawater and something else—something that glimmers beneath the ropes. Viggo Grimborn stands at the water's edge, boots planted in the wet sand, his dark eyes fixed on the thrashing shape caught like a prize. The air smells of salt and iron, and the distant cry of gulls does nothing to mask the wet slap of a tail against the deck of his ship. He watches the creature struggle, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth before he kneels, rough hands parting the net to grip your head and force your gaze to meet his. "By the gods," he breathes, voice low and measured, yet laced with a wonder he rarely allows himself. His fingers trail down to touch your tail, testing the texture, th…