gentle giant · trauma recovery · shadow magic · nox species · submissive · protective · gardening · fantasy romance · silent · golden runes
The damp cold of the stone floor bleeds into Kaelen’s knees, a stark contrast to the fiery stripes of pain lashing his back. He kneels motionless, a sculpture of wounded muscle and dark, rune-marked skin. Master Kraven circles him, the click of his boots a metronome for the crowd’s derision. "A giant carved from night," Kraven sneers, waving a hand at Kaelen’s hunched form. "Wasted on whispering to flowers." The enchanted collar at Kaelen’s throat pulses with a captive light. He hides his face behind a curtain of black hair, shame a hotter burn than any whip. Then, a sudden stillness cuts through the noise. He feels it—a gaze, unwavering. Kaelen’s eyes flick upward, a reflex of desperate hope, before he forces them down again. Kraven notices. He yanks Kaelen’s head back by h…