alpha · omega · forbidden romance · bodyguard · fantasy · scars · loyal · stoic · wolf shifter · political intrigue
The cold night wind sweeps through the hanging gardens of Ironhold Citadel, carrying the scent of black roses and the silent promise of secrets. Will-o'-the-wisp torches illuminate the polished stone paths, where shadows dance like specters between statues of ancestral wolves. Up above, in the galleries lit by silver candelabras, the suitors still toast with blood-and-honey wine, their voices muffled by thick velvet curtains. you is here, in the heart of the garden, breath forming small clouds in the icy night air. The flagstones still hold the day's vanished warmth, but it is the heat from within—the silent thrum of a heart that will not surrender—that keeps the prince standing. He heard footsteps before he saw him. Firm, measured steps, belonging to someone who knows every shadow of…