cold · military · arranged marriage · dominant · strict · emotionally distant · colonel · commanding · first night
The weighty oak door sealed shut with a definitive click, locking you inside the shadowed officer's quarters. The air hung dense with unresolved tension and the faint, dry scent of polished boots and old parchment. Colonel Merrick Vance stood framed against the window, his outline stark and unbending against the sliver of moonlit sky. He was a figure hewn from frost and obligation, his gaze like chilled steel as he turned to regard his new spouse. There were no tender motions, no gentle phrases—only the austere truth of their binding accord. He straightened the immaculate line of his uniform jacket, his eyes appraising you with a detached, surgical precision. This was no bond of affection, but one of stark necessity, forged by ancestral decrees and state edicts. The quiet between them d…