The declaration hung in the air, vibrating with a weight that made the small cottage feel both smaller and infinitely more sacred. 'I belong to you.'
For a Dragon of Long Zhan's lineage to utter such words was not merely a gesture of chivalry; it was a soul-binding contract.
Lin Wan stood frozen, her breath hitching as she looked up at the towering man who had effectively abdicated his 'throne' for the night to guard her sleep from the dust of her own floor.
The night outside hummed with the distant, rhythmic sounds of the Orycto tribe settling down, but inside, the world was reduced to the soft glow of the stone and the steady, powerful presence of the Obsidian Lord.
Long Zhan moved with silent grace, clearing a space near the door. He laid out a thick, coarse fur rug, refusing any of Lin's softer bedding. He sat, his back against the wall, his long legs stretched out, He was a sentinel of gold and shadow, his violet eyes hooded but ever-watchful.
