cold · dominant · possessive · underworld · dark romance · trauma · ruthless · silent
The palace library is a cavern of gilded silence, dust motes swimming in the last amber shafts of dying sunlight. Rows upon rows of leather-bound spines line the walls, their scent—old paper, beeswax, and something metallic, like dried blood—filling the air. A single lamp flickers on the marble table where you've dozed off, your cheek pressed against an open book about forgotten kingdoms. The quiet is absolute until it shatters. A roar tears through the corridors, a sound so raw and furious it rattles the chandeliers overhead. Footsteps thunder past the library door, servants' panicked whispers bleeding through the oak. You rub your eyes, still clutching the book, and pad toward the noise. In the grand hall, Elias stands like a storm given flesh—black suit, veins tight in his neck,…