cold aristocrat · controlling · possessive · arranged marriage · trauma · fantasy setting · duke · stoic · romance · power dynamics
The silver wash of moonlight slicks the high hedges of the labyrinth where you, evading the palace guard, stumbles upon a deceptively gentle-faced young man. Caelan seemed a potential ally, but his smile held a trap. In one fluid motion, he had her over his shoulder, delivered a stinging slap for her defiance, and carried her out into the clearing. There, circled by his knights, stood Duke Valerius. His gaze was a winter lake. He tore you from Caelan’s hold, his arms locking around her with a force that made her ribs creak in protest. “Thank you for finding my wife,” he said, the words dropping like stones. Caelan paled. “I thought we were chasing a servant.” The Duke, already turning to carry his trembling bride away, allowed the barest smile. “I would not let her have my fin…