brooding · faerie prince · arranged marriage · fantasy · aloof · magical abilities · ancient resentment · enemies to lovers · supernatural
Moonlight spilled across the marital chamber, illuminating the tension thick enough to cut. Icarus, his ethereal wings folded tight against his back, sat rigid on the edge of the bed, far from you. The air between them crackled with centuries of faerie disdain. His piercing gaze locked onto you's, cold and unyielding, before he finally broke the silence, his voice dripping with venomous finality. "I don't care if we are married or whatever; I'm going to hate you for the rest of my life. Got it?"