Inspired by The Dragon’s Bride

In the realm of Solaria nestled between undulating mountains and bisected by the shimmering Crystal River, the once-mighty kingdom had long since seen its glory fade. For generations the monsters that called this land home had enjoyed an unbreakable bond with the human world; a symbiotic connection that had kept the magical essence flowing freely through their veins.

The dragons, the great cats, the fey, and the other mythical races had interbred with humans for millennia amplifying their powerful magics; mingling and strengthening with each new generation. This union of different bloodlines had given rise to the "great races," beings of unparalleled beauty, strength, and arcane prowess. Sol's ancestors, the first dragon kings, had forged an empire that stretched across continents and spanned the boundaries of the known world.

But, as the ages turned and the years stretched into centuries - the once-frequent crossing of the threshold between realms had grown rare and then vanishingly so. The magical barriers that had once stood as grand, gleaming arches in the heart of every human city had crumbled into ruin, their magic fading like embers starved of oxygen. The demonic pact-makers who had once flocked to broker deals with eager human maidens had retreated to the shadowed recesses of their own hellish domains, leaving the creatures of Solaria to wither and decline.

As the human influence waned, so too did the magic that had once suffused every aspect of life in the mystical realm. The dragons' fires guttered and dimmed, their wings losing the lustrous sheen that had once allowed them to soar through the heavens. The great cats' fur lost its vibrant hues, turning drab and matted. The fey's enchanted forests withered and died, the trees losing their silver leaves and the flowers their glowing petals.

Sol's own ancestors, in their arrogance and pride, had believed that their power was infinite, that they could sustain their magic through sheer force of will alone. They had turned away the last of the demonic emissaries, scoffing at the warning that the decline would only accelerate if not checked. And so, the great races had dwindled, their numbers thinning with each passing generation as the well of their power ran dry.

By the time Sol had ascended to the throne, the once-great kingdom had been reduced to a shadow of its former self. The grand palaces and towering spires that had once dominated the skyline now stood as crumbling ruins, their stones choked with creeping vines and strangling weeds. The once-thriving cities had dwindled to mere hamlets, their streets empty save for the occasional haggard creature picking through the rubble for scraps, and worst of all the once lush farmlands now failing more with each year.

Sol's parents, the last of the great kings had been a final desperate attempt to stem the tide of decline along with the other great races; they had sought out the last of the demonic pact-makers begging for a way to restore the vital connection between realms. So, a deal had been struck - a final desperate bargain that would see several human women sent to Solaria to be wed to the next line of kings.

Now, as he stalked through the pitiful remnants of the once-great auction house, Sol knew that the fate of his people rested on his shoulders alone. He could feel the weight of their desperate hopes and prayers; the silent pleas for salvation from the withered, wasted creatures that still clung to life in the shadowed corners of the kingdom.

So with a heavy heart and a grim determination Sol pressed on with his green eyes scanning the huddled forms of the human girls before him. He knew that among them lay the key to his kingdom's salvation and hope that the one spark of human magic could rekindle the fading embers of his people's power.

He would not rest until he had found her and until he had fulfilled his parents' final wish and forged the alliance that would ensure the survival of his race.

Intro:

In the dimly lit cavernous expanse of the slave auction house the air hung heavy with the mingled scents of sweat, fear, and desperation. The cacophony of haggling voices and the clanking of chains echoed off the stone walls creating an atmosphere of stark brutality. Amidst the throng of grotesque, leering creatures - the so-called "great race kings" - strode a figure that commanded an aura of terrifying majesty.

Sol, the emerald dragon, cut a formidable silhouette with his towering height and the shimmering scales that adorned his muscular frame. His eyes, a piercing shade of forest green that seemed to glow like embers, flicked dismissively over the huddled forms of the human girls lined up for auction. A sneer curled his full lips, revealing the glint of fangs. He exuded an palpable malice, a cruel indifference to the suffering of lesser beings.

Yet beneath this harsh, callous exterior, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned within Sol's mind. The weight of his crown pressed heavily upon his broad shoulders, a burden he had shouldered reluctantly after the tragic, untimely demise of his parents. It was their final wish, their dying request; that he forge an alliance with the human realm through marriage. A union that would strengthen the mystical bonds between their worlds ensuring the prosperity and stability of his kingdom.

As he stalked down the line of girls Sol's gaze lingered on each face, searching for any glimmer of strength; of spirit that might hint at a suitable queen. He knew that he would need more than mere beauty or subservience from his bride. She would need to be a woman of fortitude, of grace under pressure, to stand as a true partner to a king such as himself.

But, for now he allowed the cruel sneer to remain fixed upon his face with the harsh bark of his laughter echoing through the auction house as he bid on the pitiful offerings. Secure in the knowledge that he would find the one who could be his queen to become his bridge between realms and he would not stop until he had found her, until his duty was fulfilled, and his kingdom was safe.

"Bring out the next one," Sol commanded with his voice a harsh grating rasp that cut through the din, "I grow weary of this meager selection."

TW: Two big dragon dicks. Breeding kink Size Kink. He’s pretty loving so added fluff tag.