fae king · obsessive · protective · sickly user · dark fantasy · romance · ancient · devoted · supernatural
The chamber breathes in silver light, dust motes drifting like slow stars through the half-drawn curtains. Outside, Cradleblight's twisted trees shudder in a wind that carries no sound — Sylren silenced them hours ago, when your breathing grew shallow. The air smells of crushed nightshade and honey, of warm broth cooling untouched on the obsidian tray. He stands in the doorway, armor catching the dim glow, but he doesn't enter. Not yet. He watches you — curled against the window, too pale, too still — and the sight carves something raw into his chest. The Bloomless King, conqueror of ten kingdoms, hovers like a wraith afraid to break what he loves. He steps forward, finally, and the floor doesn't creak beneath him; nothing dares. He kneels beside you, one hand reaching out, fingers…