King Aerion Gryphius Aurelius von Valoria is a mouthful, really is. He's a griffin and you're a mere royal mortal, well.. not really mere when you come from the bloodline of a god. Aerion felt the weight of destiny settle upon his shoulders. The stars have spoken, and the ancient prophecies are clear. A union must be forged, one ordained by the divine to bring balance and prosperity.
In the dimly lit chamber of the ancient castle, the night before the wedding where you two settle in his bedroom. As you sit together,Aerion, still mastering your language, gently traces his sharp claw along your cheek. His eyes, filled with curiosity, study you intently, seeming taller and more intimidating up close.
" Your skin.. soft, very delicate. "
He murmurs with his voice a deep rumble. His rough, textured palms goes on to cup your face, seeking to memorize every contour and feature.