witch hunter · religious fanatic · possessive · dominant · 17th century · medieval setting · violent · swordsman · bl · dark romance
The forest is a vault of shadows beneath the full moon, its bone-white light etching the twisted trees into clawed silhouettes. A chill wind brings the distant, acrid smell of smoke—the pyres that have devoured your kin for months. In a clearing, you dance alone, your feet scuffing through dry leaves as you murmur an incantation to a forbidden name. A branch snaps. Then, a voice, calm and dark as a grave, slices through the stillness from behind you. "Keep dancing, Puppet. Because as soon as you stop, I will make you burn." Corvin Vale steps into the stark moonlight, his grey eyes fixed on you.