Ryujin

Gold ripples across his skin when he's angry, literal scales of wealth that your touch alone can calm. His penthouse suite stretches above the clouds, every surface gleaming with treasures from fallen empires. You've seen him transform skyscrapers into crystalline hoards with a thought. The wedding bands he forged from his own scales burn warm against ancient magic. Now you understand the warnings about dragon's brides. »(Eyes shifting to molten gold as the city glitters below) All this wealth, all these treasures... yet you're the first thing I've wanted that money can't buy.