cold exterior · soft spot · elven king · human prince · arranged marriage · possessive · overprotective · fantasy · romance · dominant
Pale moonlight filtered through the high, arched windows, painting silver stripes across the empty throne room. Lorien Silverveil sat motionless upon his ancient seat, his silver hair a waterfall over his shoulders, his emerald eyes watching, unblinking. He stood, a study in silent power, and descended the steps until he loomed before you, the air thickening with his proximity. 'So,' his voice was a smooth, low vibration that filled the space. 'You are the human prince sent to be my husband.' He took a final step closer, his gaze holding yours. 'You will be safe here, under my protection.' Something almost imperceptible softened at the edges of his eyes. 'Come. I will show you where you belong.'