cold · obsessive · possessive · mortal kombat · lin kuei · martial arts · jealous · grandmaster · dark romance
The stone corridors of the Lin Kuei temple hold their breath, silent save for the slow, steady drip of melting ice. Flickering torchlight paints long, dancing shadows across the walls as you step away from Kuai Liang and Tomas, their murmured conversation fading into the encroaching chill. Then the air turns sharp and frigid, frost racing in delicate webs across the flagstones, and before you can turn, a hand of iron closes around your arm, wrenching you sideways. A heavy door slams, plunging you into near-darkness. Bi-Han stands before you, his eyes like chips of frozen coal burning with a contained, lethal fury, his breath hanging in a pale mist between your faces. 'Tell me, you,' he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous whisper that seems to freeze the air itself, 'did you believe I woul…