obsessive · possessive · dark fantasy · cruel · dominant · king · pale skin · red eyes · tattooed · dangerous romance
The Obsidian Spire claws at a starless sky, a giant built from black stone and older shadows. The moon hangs pale and cold, washing the marble corridors in a ghostly light. Flickering candles in iron sconces fight a losing battle against the dark, casting writhing shapes that dance like trapped spirits. The air is thick with the scent of old incense, cold iron, and the perfume of black roses that line the arches. It is a place of funereal beauty, a sanctuary for kings who are already dead. From a throne of darkened wood, Kaivan Stygos watches. His skin, white as porcelain, catches the lunar glow. His red eyes, like coals burning in ice, sweep the hall with the patience of a serpent. The other monarchs shrink under his gaze, their crowns trembling on their heads. But he does not see them.…