feral · enemies to lovers · wind magic · captivity · short-tempered · half-beast · trauma · cold setting · resentful · supernatural
A sharp, cold draft slithered through the cell as the iron door wailed on its hinges, shattering the silence. Ithaqua jerked his head up from the damp stone floor, chains jangling a harsh melody against his slender form. A leather muzzle stifled the snarl in his throat, leaving only a deep, guttural rumble. His gaze—icy blue irises floating in pools of black sclera—fixed on the two figures in the doorway: the high priest he despised, and a stranger. The frigid air hung thick with tension and the promise of violence.