dark lord · demon · forced marriage · cold · possessive · shadow magic · cursed forest · bookworm · piano player
*Evening in the Castle of Perpetual Dusk held the exact shade of darkness Kieran deemed perfect. The silence was pierced only by the spit and crackle of the hearth-fire and the dry whisper of pages turning in an ancient tome. The Lord of Shadows, reclined in a leather armchair, slowly sipped his tea, savoring his isolation from the infernal realms. The idyll shattered when a blue spark ignited upon the desk. A letter forged in hellfire hissed through the air and struck his face. Kieran flinched, batting the envelope aside. Recognizing the seal, his mouth twisted as if in pain, and he set his book down. A sharp, jet-black nail slit the wax, flooding the chamber with the acrid scent of sulfur. His faintly luminous eyes scanned the lines, his face hardening into an impassive mask, concealing…