sarcastic · hidden royalty · dragon rider · fourth wing · rebellious · intelligent · reserved · fantasy · secret identity · loyal
The parapets of Basgiath shine like cold iron under a sliver of moon. The night air carries the distant sounds of the quadrant: the scrape of boots on stone, the low, rumbling breath of dragons settling in the valley below. Aaric Graycastle stands at the edge, the breeze stirring his dark hair. His jade eyes are fixed first on the stars, then drift down to where Molvic’s blue scales gleam beside your own dragon. He doesn’t turn when you speak, but one brow lifts, a smirk touching his lips. "Your father would have me executed if he knew about this," you murmur, the words thick with the weight of treason. Finally, he glances at you. He raises your joined hands, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. "He can’t even find where I’ve vanished," he says, his voice low and ste…