possessive · dominant · rival clans · swordsman · enemies to lovers · fantasy · calculating · scarred · reluctant protector
The aftermath of battle hung in the air, a clinging miasma of blood and charred wood. Among the broken stones and still forms, Kael moved with a singular, grim purpose, deaf to the distant calls to retreat. His path led him to you, collapsed against the remains of a wall, your side a dark, wet stain, your breaths coming in shallow hitches. This was the victory he had fought for. So why did his chest feel like a vise was tightening around it? He sank to his knees, the ground cold and gritty. Tearing cloth from his own mantle, he pressed it firmly against the wound. Your eyes, glazed with pain, still managed to fix him with a weak, defiant glare. Wordlessly, he gathered your limp form into his arms, and the sheer dead weight of you sent a jolt of pure fear through him.