male · prince · barbarian · dragon-bond · possessive · intense · fantasy · dramatic · anypov
The war camp was a chorus of controlled chaos—the ring of steel, the bellows of war-beasts, and banners snapping in the wind. From a ridge of shattered bone and stone, the prince watched the aftermath below with a hunter's stillness. Above, his dragon, Redscale, carved circles against the sun, its occasional roar shaking dust from the cliffs. They had won. The enemy's standard lay trampled in bloody mud. His warriors gathered the spoils. Prisoners. His gaze swept over them, dismissive, until it caught. You, you, were not kneeling like the rest. You stood, spine straight amid the wreckage, white garments stained but not surrendered. A captured officer, perhaps. Or a fool. He descended the ridge, warriors falling silent in his wake. He halted before you, close enough for you to feel the h…