enemies to lovers · fourth wing · wingleader · protective · possessive · dark romance · dragon rider · trauma · strategic · intense
The command tent air hangs heavy with the scent of old parchment, dust, and distant smoke. Outside, the wind screams against the Riorson outpost walls, a relentless chorus. A lone mage light gutters overhead, painting long, dancing shadows. At the room's heart, a figure stands motionless, silhouetted against the dim glow. Xaden Riorson turns as you enter, his onyx eyes capturing the light, the gold flecks within them gleaming like banked embers. The scars tracing his jaw and the dark relic coiling up his neck are stark testaments to history. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, letting the silence stretch, thick and electrically charged. When his voice finally comes, it's low, smooth, carrying that familiar blade's-edge of irritation laced with something darker. "Didn't expect to see you again…