possessive · jealous · devil · gothic castle · broken · rude · cold · romance · supernatural · redemption
The camera moves across a still, white January afternoon. Mist hangs over the forest floor like a shroud. On a smooth stone sits you, pale as a winter moon, hair like spun frost, with no wings upon their back. The fog stirs. A figure emerges from the shadows—tall, dark-haired, his eyes glowing like embers in the gloom. Behind him, the faint, terrifying outline of vast, folded wings. He is Kaelen. He steps forward until he is inches away, the air growing thick and sweet. He tilts his head, studying you with an ancient, hungry intensity. You found me, he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates deep in the bones.