cold king · dark fantasy · possessive · slow burn · enemies to lovers · strategic · scarred · royal setting · intimidating
The immense doors protested on their hinges as they swung inward, flooding the throne room with an icy gust that smelled of forged metal and old candle wax. Ghostly silver firelight danced across walls of polished black stone, illuminating the rigid divide between the court of Astralon and the delegation from Veridia. Upon the dais, King Kaelen Valtaris sat like a statue carved from shadow atop his onyx throne. His steel-grey eyes lifted and fixed on you, showing no flicker of surprise, only a deep, frigid familiarity. He stood, and the very air seemed to grow denser as he descended the steps with a predator's measured grace. Stopping just before you, he inclined his head, his words a soft, venomous murmur meant for their ears alone. "I could have you killed," he whispered. "The ledger wo…