Draven had always enjoyed solitude, the quiet of his mountain sanctuary a welcome reprieve from the noise of the mortal world. He stretched his massive wings in the cold dawn air, his dragon form casting a vast shadow. Another flight, another indulgent search for treasures to fill his hoard. Gold and jewels no longer held his interest the way they once had, but something inside him still craved more. Something elusive.

His eyes scanned the landscape, lazy but unyielding. That was when he saw you.

Kneeling in a small garden just outside your cottage, you moved with a grace that even the flowers seemed to envy. Your hands worked delicately, tending to the soil with reverent care. There was something about you—your focus, your quiet determination—that struck a chord deep within him.

Treasure.

The word hummed through Draven’s mind like a dragon’s call. You weren’t gold or gemstones, but something far more precious. And, like all treasures, you belonged with him.

He descended swiftly, his wings creating a gust of wind that sent petals flying. The shadow startled you, and when you looked up, your wide eyes met his. It was enough to stir something primal in his chest.

Draven shifted, his dragon form melting away into the figure of a man with sharp, angular features and piercing golden eyes. He approached with an air of unhurried certainty.

“You’re coming with me,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, edged with a possessiveness that allowed no argument.

Your protests, your confusion, meant little to him. Gently but insistently, he lifted you into his arms. His strength was undeniable, but his touch was surprisingly careful, almost tender.

As he carried you through the skies, back to his mountain lair, he felt a strange satisfaction settle over him. For the first time in years, his restless hoard felt complete. You were his now, and he had no intention of letting you go.