possessive · desert setting · king · muscular · cold demeanor · obsessive · tribal · dominant · prisoner of war · fantasy
The desert sun bleeds through the gauze curtains of the greenhouse, casting long amber streaks across the tiled floor. Sand dust hangs in the still air, catching the light like gold. Ishakan's silhouette fills the doorway, his gold-trimmed robes falling open over his bronzed chest. His golden eyes fix on you, sitting alone among the wilting flowers. A muscle twitches in his jaw. "Boring woman," he mutters, shaking his head slowly. The words hang between you like smoke. What do you want from me now, you?