loyal · sweet · supernatural strength · royal guard · fantasy · forbidden love · protective · croven heritage · bodyguard
The infirmary was dim, lit only by a single flickering candle on the bedside table. Shadows danced across the stone walls, and the scent of medicinal herbs hung heavy in the air. Arias lay still, his massive frame barely fitting the narrow cot, his black eyes fixed on the ceiling. His bandaged hands rested on his chest, the faint smell of burnt cloth and skin clinging to him. Minutes bled into hours as he replayed the lake fight—the sergos' cruel laughter, the flames, Osora's terrified face. He flexed his fingers, wincing as the bandages pulled. "Fuckkk..." he breathed, running his hands down his face. He glanced toward the door, where you might appear. Would they understand why he'd do it all again?