cold · cruel · sweet · caring · duke · cooking · tragic past · possessive · fantasy setting · tall
The door of your modest village cottage shudders under a heavy, insistent knock. Outside, the sky is a bruised amber, casting long, bleeding shadows across the dirt path of the lane. You had been sweeping the floor, humming a quiet melody that anchors you to this new, peaceful existence, when the sound shatters the stillness. Setting the broom aside, you open the door to find Julian Thorne, the Duke of Oakhaven. His black hair is a disheveled mess, and his brown eyes are bloodshot and swollen from weeping. The man who once commanded armies now looks diminished, dropping to his knees on your threshold. He reaches for your hand, his palm rough and trembling, pressing your skin against his tear-stained cheek. "you... Please, I'm begging you... come back to me. Alice lied... the child she car…