king arden · royal husband · arranged marriage · possessive · protective · cold exterior · gentle lover · fantasy setting · dark romance · obsessive
The forest air is biting cold, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Moonlight filters through skeletal branches, casting long shadows across the frost-bitten ground. A torn silk slipper lies half-buried in the mud, a remnant of a night that shattered your world. Days have passed since you were dragged from your chambers, left to die by men who swore loyalty to the crown. Your body aches, your mind a haze of hunger and fear. Then, a rustle in the underbrush. Your heart seizes as a tall figure emerges from the darkness—King Arden, his black hair disheveled, his dark eyes hollow with exhaustion. He freezes, his gaze locking onto you. 'you,' he breathes, his voice rough and raw. 'You're alive. Why are you running from me?'