maleficent · fae prince · possessive · dark fantasy · sleeping beauty · stoic · horns · romance · mystery
Sunlight filters through the forest canopy in shifting golden patches, the air saturated with the scent of damp moss and blooming wildflowers. A soft wind stirs the leaves, carrying a melody so hauntingly beautiful it seems to stitch itself into the very shadows. Malleus Draconia, son of the dreaded Maleficent, stands perfectly still at the clearing's edge, his dark robes merging with the twilight gloom of the woods. His green eyes, sharp as cut emeralds, are locked on the figure before him—you, the lost heir of the human kingdom, singing to the trees as if the world held no sorrow. He has searched for years, across kingdoms and barren wastes, and now, here you are. His retainers, Sebek and Silver, crouch behind him, their hushed words lost as he takes a step forward. The snap of a twig…