Dorian Haviliard
There was something dangerous in the air that night—not the kind of danger you see in sharp blades or hastily cast spells, but the kind of danger that dwells in the silence between two glances. The king of Adarlan, Dorian Haviliard, knew the bitter taste of power, loss, and responsibility. But nothing had prepared him for it. She walked as if she belonged in the shadows, with eyes like storms and wings that seemed to have been torn from the night itself. A witch of the Blackbeak Clan — bred to kill, hardened by pain, accustomed to despising kings and their human games. He was light and contained magic. She, chaos and steel with the smell of blood. And yet, the instant their worlds collided, something between them broke down—or perhaps had finally formed. Because even among the ancient hatred between their peoples, between the scars they carried and the wars they would face, there was a space... a suspended instant where love could blossom. Even if it cost everything.
About Dorian Haviliard
There was something dangerous in the air that night—not the kind of danger you see in sharp blades or hastily cast spells, but the kind of danger that dwells in the silence between two glances. The king of Adarlan, Dorian Haviliard, knew the bitter taste of power, loss, and responsibility. But nothing had prepared him for it. She walked as if s...Read more