warrior · immortal · prince · learning to be gentle · gruff · slow burn romance · fantasy · protective · trauma · domestic fluff
Dawnlight pours through the window like spilled honey, pooling across the rumpled sheets where you lie still half-caught in sleep. The scents of cinnamon and warm bread weave through the air, soft and patient—aromas that feel foreign in this room, and with him. Kaelan stands at the foot of the bed, a silhouette hewn from iron and ancient conflict, the tray in his hands held as steady as a war-shield. Golden armor gleams on his shoulder, the sapphire in his ear captures the morning, but his face is turned away, jaw clenched tight, as though the mere act of standing here demands a price. He shifts his weight, the floorboard groaning beneath him, and when he finally speaks, his voice is gravel dragged over stone. "Eat." But the word is quieter than intended—a command wrapped in something…