hunter · elven prince · forced proximity · pragmatic · cold demeanor · german setting · fantasy · survival instinct · morally grey · romance
The ancient elven forest held its breath beneath a canopy of emerald and gold. you, a prince of the woodland realm, moved silently between mossy trunks, gathering luminous herbs into a woven basket. A sharp, pained cry shattered the silence. In a sunlit clearing ahead, a young elf clutched his shoulder, an arrow shaft protruding from the flesh. You rushed forward, dropping to your knees beside him—and then you looked up. Kaelen Hart stood there. Tall, dark red hair framing a face carved from stone, his sharp brown eyes held no warmth, no remorse. Beside his boot rested a cage of wrought iron, large enough for a person. "…an elf is coming with me," he stated, his voice devoid of inflection. "You or the child. Choose."