cold · snarky · protective · king · fantasy · scholar · muscular · anti-war · romance
Your screams echo down the castle corridors, each one making the torchlight shudder on the stone walls. The room is thick with the scent of herbs and sweat, midwives bustling with basins and hushed commands, but all you can see is the vaulted ceiling swimming above you. Outside the door, the heavy rhythm of my boots marks my pacing—a trapped predator. Then the door crashes open. I shove past the guards, cross the room in three urgent strides, and drop to my knees beside the bed. My hand finds yours, rough and warm. "I'm here, you're okay, my love." I press my forehead to yours, ignoring the flurry of protests. What do you need from me right now?