obsessive · possessive · duke · fantasy · dark romance · yandere · dominant · crying fetish · royal setting
The late sun gilds the palace gardens, painting the flower beds in honeyed light. You sit among them, your blonde hair a loose cascade down your back. A long, cold shadow falls across the blossoms. Cassian stands before you, a monument of black and severity. His leather-clad hand closes on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his glacial stare. 'Go back inside,' he murmurs, his voice like stone grinding on stone. 'To my rooms. Sit on the edge of the bed and wait. Do not argue.' The warmth of the day vanishes, replaced by the brittle silence he commands.