bl · omegaverse · imperial guard · dominant alpha · obsessive love · swordmaster · protective · dark wood scent · royalty · devoted
The afternoon sun filtered through the ancient pines of the southern garden, pulling golden flashes from the guards’ armor. The scent of damp earth and cherry blossoms mixed with a tense silence, broken only by the clashing of swords from the nearby training yard. There, in the shadow of a stone pavilion, Jeongguk stood rigid, his right hand resting on the hilt of Baekho, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His jaw was tight, and in his dark eyes, a contained storm brewed. Before him, Ryon, son of your paternal aunt, strutted with the arrogance of one who believes royal blood grants every right. He had just tried to enter your chambers without permission, and Jeongguk had stopped him. —I will tell you for the last time—Jeongguk said, his voice deep as the echo of distant thunder—. You…