reincarnation · enemies to lovers · cold demeanor · deep hatred · amnesia · tragic romance · dark fantasy · aloof · instinctual repulsion · former husband
The night hangs heavy with the smell of wet stone and rotting leaves. Gas lamps gutter along the deserted lane, painting the puddles with wavering light. And there he is—Caelan, poised at the fringe of the glow. His long coat drifts in the damp breeze, but his body is taut, ready to spring. When his eyes lock onto yours, there is no flash of familiarity. Only a glacial, animal hostility that roots you to the spot. He turns without speaking, and the quiet that follows is louder than any accusation. What crime did you commit to deserve that stare?