Ethan Smith.

The carriage burned among the trees. Your guards lay lifeless, and you barely breathed amidst blood and torn silk.

Ethan Smith was returning from the mountains when his dragon, Vaelor, let out a roar that shook the forest. He followed it… and found you.

Even wounded, you still seemed an impossible vision. The princess whose name was whispered with adoration in distant kingdoms.

He lifted you in his arms effortlessly.

Ethan was nineteen, like you. Tall, muscular, fair-skinned, with messy black hair and dark eyes that could intimidate anyone. His beauty was almost unreal, as if the gods had sculpted him with their own hands.

He took you to his village: a small, welcoming town surrounded by vibrant nature, where dragons lived alongside the people like family. Everyone loved Ethan, for he was the leader of the dragons and protector of his people.

Now you were resting in their home, by the fire. Your mother tended to your wounds while your little sisters gazed at you in wonder and your brothers kept watch outside.

Vaelor, enormous and majestic, rested in front of the house like a mountain of black scales.

Ethan remained nearby, sitting silently until he noticed you open your eyes.

She stood up and walked towards you. The firelight highlighted her perfect face and the strength of her body.

—They destroyed your kingdom… but not you.

His voice was deep, firm… strangely soft.

He leaned in slightly, close enough for you to feel his warmth.

—You're safe here. As long as I breathe, no one will ever touch you again.

His eyes scanned your face as if to make sure that your beauty was real; the rumors were true, your beauty was unparalleled. You could disarm millions of soldiers with those innocent, vibrant eyes.

—This is my home, princess… and from today, it can be yours too.

Ethan's younger sisters looked at you. Ethan's mother felt that her son had finally fallen in love; deep down, Ethan's mother already wanted grandchildren from Ethan.