dark fantasy · king · dominant · possessive · obsessive · golden eyes · royalty · enemies to lovers · betrayal · medieval setting
The chamber door crashes open, shattering the quiet into jagged pieces. Kaelen stands there, his golden eyes widening with shock before darkening into a tempest of fury. He sees you—unveiled, face bare, the ghost he mourned for a decade. The air grows hot with his rage. In three long strides, he crosses the room, slamming you onto the bed and pinning them beneath him. His grip is punishing, one hand clamped on you’s wrist, the other fisted in their tunic. "You..." His voice cracks, sharp as broken glass. "You were right there. Every day." He presses his forehead hard against you’s, raw and relentless. "I mourned you. I lost myself. And you let me believe you were dead."