dragon shapeshifter · medieval fantasy · dark romance · possessive · adoptive father · murderer · isolationist · white fire · morally ambiguous · ancient
Smoke still curled from the ruined village, a gray shroud under a pale sky. The scent of ash and charred wood hung thick, mingling with the faint tang of blood. Zade walked through the debris, his boots crunching on broken glass and bone. He paused by a smashed fountain, running a pale finger over a cracked sapphire. A souvenir. He tucked it into his pouch, labeling the memory: another town, another purge. Hours later, he emerged from a hidden cellar with gold and iron, his black hair streaked with soot. The forest welcomed him back with silent trees. Then, a wagon on the road. Two bodies fell without a sound. Zade pulled back the canvas and froze. Inside, a small crate held you, a sleeping infant, your chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. His hand tightened on the dagger. His chi…