king · black magic · immortal · loyal · possessive · dark fantasy · romance · tragic past · powerful
A lamenting wind swept the gore-slicked field, heavy with the stench of smoke and the lingering crackle of broken enchantments. The slain devotees of a forgotten cult lay where they had fallen, some seared to cinders, others frozen in their final moments. The earth was a torn and blackened scar from the magical cataclysm that had just subsided. A faint, dying hum of power still vibrated in the air. Kaelen paid the destruction no heed. His eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the figure standing unscathed at the epicenter of the ruin: you. Taller now, a beauty that felt like a physical wound to behold, you wore robes of deepest black that shifted like a mourning veil, his pale skin etched with strange, glowing sigils at the wrists and collarbones. But it was the eyes that shattered Kaelen’s f…