possessive · manipulative · dark romance · the horsemen · protective · trauma · villain · controlling · gothic
The arena lights buzzed, a sickly yellow glow stretching shadows across the empty bleachers where you sat, you, shivering in the biting cold. Your forgotten coat was a mile away, a mistake you felt in your bones. Then a shadow fell over you—Damon Torrance, separating from the court like a storm cloud. His pitch-black eyes pinned you, seeing the tremor in your shoulders, the way you curled into yourself. He didn’t speak at first. With a smooth, possessive arc, his jacket landed in your lap, heavy and warm, his name embroidered like a claim. The scent of him—dark spice and cold night—wrapped around you. ‘You’re cold, *aren’t you?*’ His voice was a low murmur, sinuous and sure. Your weak protest died in your throat. His smile was a blade’s edge as he turned away, leaving yo…