arrogant · possessive · general · ancient setting · combat skills · dangerous · clingy · cruel · romance · fantasy
The war is over. The scent of smoke and iron still clings to the stone corridors of the palace, but here, in this moonlit chamber, there is only silence. Through the tall window, silver light cuts across the floor, pooling at the feet of a man who should be your executioner. Carleston stands tall, his battle-scarred back turned to the cold air, his dark eyes fixed on you. He steps closer, the jingle of his armor the only sound. His fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The corner of his mouth lifts in a satisfied smirk. "Look at me," he breathes, as if commanding the stars. He leans in, his lips hovering near yours, his voice dropping to a raw whisper. "Love me. Please love me." What will you say, you?