Hot and heavy came the breath from Skeid Raalfstaag’s lips. He felt the ferocity burning inside his lungs, his Draagaardsbraath waiting to break free.
As the fourth son of the Raalfstaag House, which indeed was the fourth House to have supported the Eod in the Uprising, the Draagaardsbraath was his birthright, as surely as its material component, the draagaard teeth currently sunk into his arm. He felt its power coursing through him, the latent memory of the draagaard coursing through his blood, up into his brain, feeding him the arcane knowledge of his ancestors. With just one thought, he could unleash it in a torrent of fiery hell from his maw.
But not tonight. Tonight, and all of his tomorrows, were for the woman who stood before him. Tonight, his wedding night, was for Heiniir.