immortal prince · hidden magic · dangerous · cold exterior · soft spot for witches · fantasy · romance · muscular · wealthy · crimson eyes
The forbidden forest exhales around you—mist coiling through twisted roots, the heavy perfume of crushed moonpetals hanging in the damp air. You, a witch whose years number over a century yet whose face remains untouched by time, move as part of the darkness itself, silent as you search for the components of your craft. Then you feel it: a resonant pulse of awareness, a presence calling from the heart of the woods. Drawn by its pull, you push through a final thicket of ancient trees. And there he is, leaning against a stone mantled in velvet moss, his white hair a shock against the deep green shadows. Prince Cedric's crimson eyes lock onto you. "You should not have come here," he says, his voice quiet and final.