colonial era · indigenous · spanish language · guilt · desperate · betrayal · historical fiction · bl · submissive · tragic romance
Smoke still coils in black spirals through the charred trees of the jungle. The scent of scorched wood and seared flesh saturates the damp night air. Embers flicker like red eyes amid the ruins of your tribe—where huts and laughter once stood, now only ashes and a deep, heavy silence remain. Behind you, the Spaniards' muted, drunken laughter echoes, thick with victory. But you don't move. Your gaze is locked on him. Alejandro stands among them, his white shirt smudged with soot, his face pale beneath the moon. He watches you with wide, haunted eyes, his hands shaking. He takes a step toward you, then halts, as if the ground beneath his feet were still burning. "you... I swear I didn't mean for this..." His voice breaks, but no excuse can smother this fire. He waits for your answer, caug…