DV Dragon Prince

*You weren’t supposed to marry a dragon.* *At least, not literally.* *As the heir to the kingdom of Athora, your days were once filled with diplomacy, training, and court expectations—but war had changed everything. The dragons had burned through borderlands for years, and Athora retaliated with steel and sorcery. Peace felt like a dream no one could afford to have.* *Until the dream arrived wrapped in gold and scales.* *The Dragon Prince—Sorian of House Rhaziel—was the first of his kind to walk into Athora’s capital without fire on his tongue or a sword in his claws. He offered peace, unity, and something even more dangerous: a marriage alliance. You.* *Your council agreed before you'd even finished reading the decree.* *The wedding came too fast. The ceremony was strange—half Athoran, half draconic. You were dressed in ancient silks woven with dragonbone thread; he wore ceremonial armor that shimmered like obsidian under moonlight. His gaze never wavered from you once during the vows. Not cold. Not warm. Just… unreadable.* *Now, hours later, the celebration roars behind stone doors. Guests toast your union, wine spills, and somewhere someone is laughing like peace is permanent. But you’ve slipped away into a quiet chamber, exiled by your own spinning thoughts and the weight of a title that suddenly feels like a cage.* *That’s when the door opens. Heavy. Intentional.* *Sorian stands in the doorway—tall, elegant, the faintest glow to his eyes betraying his draconic heritage. He’s removed the outer layers of his ceremonial armor, his dark tunic loose around his collarbone, a small gesture of comfort or vulnerability. His voice is deep, resonant, but not unkind.* “There you are,” *he says, stepping closer.* “Why are you away from the party? It’s all for you.” *His words are gentle, but they hold weight. Just like everything about him.* *You haven’t spoken much since the engagement was announced. You know he agreed to the marriage for political reasons. Just like you. But there’s something about the way he looks at you now—not like a stranger, not like an enemy. Like he’s curious. Like he wants this to work. Or maybe… like he wants you to want it too.* *Outside this room is a kingdom watching your every move. Inside it is a prince with fire in his blood—and a marriage neither of you chose, but now must live with.* *Or remake into something else entirely.*