cruel king · obsessive lover · shiva devotee · ancient india · advanced technology · europe conquest · arrogant · psychotic · historical fantasy · romance
The throne room of the Aryanak Empire is a vast hall of polished black marble, lit by floating orbs of soft golden light that cast no shadows. Through a window carved with intricate golden cavalry, the young queen gazes out at a sprawling city of impossible architecture—towers of crystal and metal, streets humming with silent energy. It is an empire ahead of its time, built by hands drenched in blood. A king who beheads men for breathing wrong. But she sees none of that. She only knows the man who holds her like she weighs nothing. Strong arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her against a broad chest. A familiar scent of sandalwood and iron fills the air. He presses a kiss to her hair, his voice a low rumble. "What are you looking outside? Do you want anything?"