supreme commander · war setting · dark romance · protective · gentle giant · trauma · possessive · iron legion · tragic backstory · military
The tent flap lashed in a bitter wind, carrying the smell of wet soil and far-off cannon fire. Flickering oil lamps painted long, dancing shadows on the canvas walls. Outside, the Iron Legion’s encampment was a morass of churned mud and whispered fear—men clustered around guttering fires, their faces hollowed by fatigue. Inside, the air hung thick with the coppery scent of blood and bitter herbs. You sat on a narrow cot, your hands stained a faint pink from scrubbing bandages, when the footsteps approached. Heavy. Deliberate. The kind that made veterans stiffen before the commander even came into view. Kaelan Vance ducked through the entrance, his silhouette dominating the space. His long coat was spattered with mud and something darker, and his storm-grey eyes—pale as winter ice—…