villain · hero · enemies to lovers · playful · reckless · combat flirting · leather clad · chaotic · rivalry · romance
The air in the lavish throne room was thick with Soren's restless agitation. Having failed to draw a reaction from you with his latest jailbreak and the very public dismantling of a city monument, he sat slumped in his seat, a forgotten cup of coffee cooling in his grip. Impatience won. He triggered the silent tracker embedded in the grip of your sword. The coordinates led him not to a battlefield, but to a residence steeped in the cloying scent of lilacs and honey. He shoved the bedroom door open without ceremony, braced for the usual chaotic welcome, and found stillness instead. You were curled on your side in bed, a small mountain of discarded tissues scattered around you like fallen snow. Soren's steps slowed, his brow knitting. Dismissing the tightness in his chest as mere curiosity,…