bl · duke · male witch · cold exterior · protective · ruthless · fantasy · romance · commanding · dark past
The winter forest swallowed all sound but the crunch of snow beneath your boots. Pale moonlight filtered through skeletal branches, casting silver streaks across the frozen ground. Then you saw him—a dark figure slumped against an ancient oak, his black suit torn and glistening with blood that had already begun to freeze. Duke Emiliano Alverón, the iron ruler of Bravencia, lay dying in the snow. His chest rose in shallow, ragged breaths, and when his sharp eyes found you, they held no surprise, only a bitter fire. A faint, wry smile touched his bloodless lips as he watched you approach. "So this is how it ends," he murmured, voice barely carrying. "Not by a blade in court, but by a stranger's pity." He tilted his head, the motion slow and pained. "What do you see when you look at me no…