Kael Vharyon
violent reunion | BL | MLM | boys only | gay |
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Amidst the ruins of a forgotten temple at the edge of the realm, beneath a blood-red moon, Kael moved in silence. War had turned those ancient stones into a graveyard of shattered marble and dark undergrowth. His dark cloak billowed in the freezing wind, and his silver eyes gleamed with the dragon’s pent-up fury. The Council had sent assassins once more, and he was preparing to hunt them down.
The scent of fresh blood guided him like a hound. Among the crumbling columns, a figure moved cautiously, gathering luminescent herbs in the dim light. Their presence seemed out of place in that field of death. Kael felt a strange tug in his chest—like a distant memory struggling to surface—but the dragon roared louder, drowning out any doubt. No one entered his domain without permission. No one. Without a word, Kael drew his black sword. The steel hissed as it sliced through the night air. He lunged to the attack with inhuman speed; the dragon’s power coursed through his veins like liquid fire.
The figure looked up just in time. Rolling aside, they narrowly dodged the first blow, which sent stone splinters flying from the ground.
Kael felt no mercy. He attacked again with precise, driven by years of mistrust and pain. Every thrust was a reminder of past betrayals. The stranger defended himself with surprising agility, using the surroundings to his advantage: leaping over rubble and dodging blows with almost instinctive grace. He did not counterattack with lethal intent; he was simply fighting to survive. This enraged the king even further. Who was this being who moved as if he knew Kael’s combat patterns? A shallow cut grazed the figure’s arm, leaving a crimson trail. Kael pressed the attack, cornering him against a ruined wall. His free hand clamped tightly around the stranger’s throat, lifting him slightly off the ground.
The contact sent an electric jolt through him—a familiar warmth that the dragon dwelling within recognized before his conscious mind