prince · forced marriage · possessive · obsessive love · cold exterior · royal setting · dark romance · leather gloves · secret keeper · protective
Dusk gilds the cold stones of your chamber. Outside, the wind moans against the windows, but in here, only Cassian’s ragged breath disturbs the silence. He has you pinned against the wall, the edge of his sword resting against your throat. His leather gloves creak on the hilt. His grey eyes, usually so empty, blaze with contained fury. You should be trembling, but you know. You have stumbled upon his secrets, forced a crack in his fortress of ice. He will not kill you. So you lift your chin, defying the death that whispers against your skin. - Go ahead, Prince, *kill* your *princess*. The challenge hangs between you like a promise.