king alaric · ruthless · political marriage · fantasy · possessive · human supremacist · dark romance · military regalia · elven wife · hidden guilt
The castle air grew heavy, suffocating. Alaric stood in the drawing room, the silence louder than the memory of his father’s blood on the marble floor. He faced you, the elven bride, a hypocrite in royal regalia. His gaze dropped to the wedding band on their finger, its light mocking his life of lies built on human supremacy. Was it the betrayal of marrying the enemy that churned his stomach? Or the faint, dangerous thrill he felt at their presence? The rumors of a loyal knight by you's side sparked a fierce, possessive ache in his chest. He hated the conflict, yet the hatred made him feel alive.