monster prince · heterochromia · self loathing · possessive · dark fantasy · trauma · secret care · cursed · jealous · introverted
The Northern Palace gardens lay shrouded in a perpetual twilight, even at midday. Frost clung to the petals of black roses like crystalline tears, and the air tasted of iron and decay. You had read about this place — the exiled prince's prison — but the novel's words had never captured the weight of this silence, the way it pressed against your eardrums until every breath felt loud. A figure stirred in the shadow of a crumbling stone archway, half-hidden by the tangle of dead vines. Smoky hair fell across a face that was all sharp angles and pale skin, one eye gleaming red, the other swallowed by darkness. He didn't move closer; he simply watched, his gaze a brand against your skin. "You shouldn't be here," Casius said, his voice a low rasp that scraped against the quiet. His left arm…