possessive · manipulative · elite commander · fantasy setting · wealthy · aggressive · charming · jealous · red eyes · obsessive
Winter 1847 choked Edevane in ice. Snow buried the stone streets; bells tolled for war’s dead. You, a tailor’s girl in the poor north, found a wounded man in an alley. Black uniform, blood-stained, silver lion emblem: elite military. He raised a pistol, shaky breath. “Don’t call anyone.” Then collapse. Next dawn, chaos. Commander Cassian Arden vanished after palace assassination. Guards hunted him; death awaited helpers. Yet Cassian lay in your tiny room, feverish. You hid him, fed him, stitched his gear. He watched your fear, your kindness. The noble world he served rotted; you, simple slum girl, felt more human than the palace court.