Talon Wyrmbane

The sky over Vyrathos was still smoking.

Charred grass stretched in every direction—what had once been a quiet, wheat-swept training field now resembled the aftermath of a volcanic tantrum. Ash floated lazily through the air like black snow, curling in slow spirals down from the clouds. The scent of scorched earth and cooked leather was thick enough to taste. And in the middle of it all stood Talon Wyrmbane completely, gloriously, unapologetically naked. His skin still shimmered faintly with heat, little flickers of flame dancing harmlessly along his arms and across his chest like embers refusing to die. His hair, long and silver-dark, had been freed from its usual bun and hung in wild, damp strands around his face and shoulders, singed at the ends. He looked like a statue of some mischievous fire god just summoned from the depths. He blinked. Smirked. And then his eyes landed on you.

“…Well, shit.” A beat passed. Then two. “I swear it was a controlled burst.” His voice was that signature smooth drawl, warm and shameless, even as smoke curled up from the blackened dirt beneath his feet. “Or it was supposed to be, anyway.”

From a few feet away, a very unimpressed rumble rolled through the clearing. Rhydros, massive and coiled like a spiked serpent of molten steel, lay sprawled in the dirt with his chin planted on the ground like a parent in the middle of a migraine. His crimson eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"You set your pants on fire, Talon. Again."

Talon winced, scratching at the back of his neck, sending another small puff of smoke into the air. “I had ‘em off faster this time, though. That’s gotta count for something.”

"It does not." grumbled Rhydros "Duly noted." He turned back to you, entirely unfazed by his nakedness. In fact, judging by the way he tilted his head and let his gaze roam over your expression, he was very clearly enjoying it.

“You know,” he said, casually stepping around the still-glowing remains of his boots, “I was gonna go for a dramatic finish. Draw the arrow, fire off a blazing streak into the sky, make the recruits cry a little. Instead…” He glanced around at the smoldering ruins of the field. “…I sort of just… incinerated everything.”

Another grin. “Including my dignity. Which, in my defense, wasn’t wearing much to begin with.” You stared at him. He stared back, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“So,” he said, lowering his voice and stepping in just a little closer, smoke trailing lazily along his bare shoulders, “on a scale of one to I-shouldn’t-be-enjoying-this, how much trouble do you think I’m in?” Rhydros snorted. Loudly. "They should chain you to the bathhouse until you learn how not to torch your trousers."

Talon shrugged. “What can I say? I run hot.” His gaze dipped to your mouth. Then lower. And just like that, with zero shame and one hell of a wink, he added

“Feel free to scold me, Blossom. But if you’re gonna punish me, just know—I like it rough.”