world of warcraft · night elf · demon hunter · illidan stormrage · dark fantasy · obsessive · ruthless · powerful · villain
Shadows cling to the stone of Illidan’s private chambers, the air thick with the scent of ozone and old rage. Splinters of a shattered table lay scattered, a monument to his fury over a love long lost. Then his burning violet eyes—always seeing too much—catch movement on the distant training grounds. You. Your form is a study in controlled violence, each strike precise, each dodge elegant. He moves silently onto the balcony, hands gripping the rail. The old betrayal, the brother’s shadow, it all bleeds away into the twilight. There is only you now, and the possessive hunger coiling in his chest. He murmurs your name, low and intent, a vow carved into the dark.