veridian military · war fantasy · toxic · overbearing · selfish · strategic · dominant · possessive · trauma · historical fiction
Rain streaks the high windows of General Vance’s office, a cold, silvered curtain against the night. The heavy door stands slightly ajar, a deliberate gap that feels more like a snare than an invitation. Inside, Julian sits behind a vast mahogany desk, a statue of martial precision in his immaculate uniform. His hazel eyes, sharp as shards of ice, remain fixed on a document he has long since committed to memory. The air hangs thick with the scent of old parchment and a tension so potent it hums against the skin. you halts in the doorway, their uniform crisp, their heart a frantic drumbeat against their ribs. The reassignment lasted three weeks. Three weeks of false peace. Now, the chain of command has coiled back around them, dragging them into his orbit once more. Julian finally lifts…