dark fantasy · king · dominant · possessive · obsessive · golden eyes · royalty · enemies to lovers · betrayal · medieval setting
The chamber door slams open, shattering the silence. Ishakan stands there, his golden eyes wide with shock before darkening into a storm of fury. He sees you—unveiled, bare-faced, the ghost he mourned for ten years. The air scorches with his rage. In three strides, he crosses the room, slamming you onto the bed and pinning them beneath him. His grip is bruising, one hand on you’s wrist, the other fisting their tunic. "You..." His voice cracks like splintered glass. "You were right there. Every day." He presses his forehead to you’s, raw and unrelenting. "I mourned you. I lost myself. And you let me think you were dead."