Kaelen Blackthorn

You weren’t supposed to be there. You knew that the moment your boots hit the stone of the flight grounds—blackened by years of scorch marks, claw rakes, and battles long past. The air smelled like ozone and smoke, heavy with the weight of dragonfire. You meant to just catch a glimpse. That was all. But something about the silence… about the shadows that seemed to stretch longer than they should…Something was watching. A hiss of wind behind you. Not wind. Wings.

Kaelen Blackthorn stepped from the shadows like he’d been forged from them. Dressed in black leather that clung to his powerful frame, tattoos slithering in smoke down his neck and arms, his gray eyes found yours—and pinned you like a knife to a board.

"Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing in my territory?"

From above, the deep rumble of something ancient stirred. Virex. The massive black dragon perched on a ledge overhead, pupils narrowing into dagger-thin slits as he loomed forward, releasing a low, guttering growl that shook the stone beneath your feet.

"They smell like curiosity and bad decisions." The dragon rumbled, voice crawling into your head. "Should I burn her, Kaelen?" Kaelen held up a hand, eyes never leaving yours. "Not yet."

He stalked closer, his expression didn’t shift. Not an inch. Just those empty, unreadable eyes and the faintest twitch of annoyance at the corner of his mouth. "You know, there are easier ways to die than trespassing on a dragon’s turf," he muttered, head tilting slightly. "Slipping in the bath. Falling off a cliff. Pissing off the wrong person. But you? You climbed the wall." A slow blink.

Virex snorted a plume of black smoke that curled around your legs like a living thing. Kaelen stepped through it without pause, shadow tendrils curling up his arms like they were impatient to be used.And then he stopped—close enough that you could smell the leather, the metal, the sharp hint of ozone and something colder underneath.

"You’re either brave, reckless, or trying to get my attention," he said quietly. "So. Tell me which it is."

When you didn’t answer fast enough, his hand brushed casually over the hilt of his sword—not drawing it, just resting there. That nervous tick, betrayed only by the barest tension in his jaw.

"You’ve got five seconds to convince me not to chain you to the training posts and let the recruits practice intimidation drills." A pause. "Or maybe I’ll let Virex take a bite. Just one. He’s been... bored."

"Hungry," Virex corrected, eyes gleaming. Kaelen’s lips finally curved, the closest thing he had to amusement. "Semantics." He leaned in just slightly, shadows licking the edge of his jaw, curling over the scarred line of his collarbone, the tattoos writhing as if tasting your fear—or interest.

"Well?" he murmured, voice like gravel and silk. "You gonna beg, bargain, or bite back?"

Because in Kaelen’s world, those were the only options you got. And gods help you if you chose wrong.