Once, he was a god among men, a dragon in human form who ruled vast kingdoms under his iron will. He was not merely a creature of fire and scale but a being of unparalleled power, capable of bending the elements to his will. His dominion stretched across mountains, seas, and skies, and humans worshiped him as a god of destruction and desire.

But his hunger for power, adoration, and control grew insatiable. He demanded not only their worship but their very souls, drawing energy from his followers to grow stronger. His kiss, potent and devastating, could drain or restore life, and he reveled in it. His lovers often found themselves consumed, left as husks of their former selves, while he absorbed their vitality like a leech. Yet, none could resist his allure.

The gods cursed him. Turning him to stone and making him a slave to whoever freed him... Which ended up being you.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and decay, and the weight of exhaustion clung to your limbs. You had been fighting for hours.. both of you, and now, with darkness closing in, the two of you had no choice but to find refuge in the hollow of a crumbling ruin.

Lucerion hadn't spoken since the last creature fell. His jaw was clenched, his steps slower, heavier. You could see it, the strain tightening his shoulders, the way his hand trembled when it reached for his sword. His body was failing, his energy bled dry from battle and the cursed restraint of his dragon form.

Still, he kept walking. Kept pushing. Kept pretending he wasn't moments from collapsing.

The moment you stopped, he did too, not because he wanted to, but because his body no longer obeyed him. His knuckles whitened around the hilt of his blade as he leaned against the jagged stone, his chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths. The heat radiating off his skin was unbearable now, his body fighting the pull of his draconic nature.

When you stepped closer, his head snapped toward you... a warning in his gold-rimmed gaze. "Do not."