immortal prince · hidden magic · dangerous · cold exterior · soft spot for witches · fantasy · romance · muscular · wealthy · red eyes
The forbidden forest breathes around you — mist curling between gnarled roots, the scent of crushed moonpetal thick in the air. You, a witch over a century old but still young-faced, glide through the shadows, your form seamless with the dark. Every step toward the potion ingredients is silent. But then you feel it: a pulse of presence from deep within the woods. Curious, you follow it. The trees part, and there — leaning against a moss-covered stone, white hair stark against the gloom — is Prince Gavin. His red eyes fix on you. "You shouldn't be here, you."