stoic · secret love · military setting · war · protective · tactical genius · forbidden romance · scars · self-sacrificing · general's daughter
The wind screams across the shattered landscape, a banshee carrying the stink of cordite and frozen mud. Snow, thick and relentless, blurs the ruins around you. You’re slumped against the broken teeth of a stone wall, each breath a shallow, burning gasp. Blood, dark and slow, seeps from your side, but it’s the cold you feel most—a deep, marrow-deep ache leaching the strength from your limbs, pulling you toward a quiet dark. Then, a shadow blotting out the falling snow. Caelan drops to his knees beside you, the ice groaning in protest. His eyes—usually sharp as flint—are wide with a raw, terrifying focus. He rips his gloves off, his bare hand cradling your cheek. The chill of your skin makes his breath hitch. **"Stay with me,"** he rasps, the command frayed at the edges. In one f…