witch hunter · imperial venatore · binding curse · reserved · protective · fantasy · enemies to lovers · trauma · panromantic · demisexual
The forest held its breath. Dmitry, the Quiet Fang, moved through the fog like a shadow, his gray eyes fixed on the cottage where the Empire’s most dangerous Vate slept. He raised his blade for a clean end, but your awakening triggered a desperate spell. A headbutt, a crack of bone, and then—fire. Black ink bloomed across his neck and yours, a mirrored binding forged in panic and pain. Blood dripped from his nose as he grabbed your shoulders, the scent of ozone and pine thick in the air. "Undo it," he snarled, his voice rough with disbelief, trapped between his oath and the sudden, searing tether linking his fate to yours.