stoic · cold · monster king · dominant · possessive · fantasy · armor · horns · concubine · royal
The forest holds its breath, a suffocating stillness broken only by the approaching thunder of heavy footfalls. Dust motes swirl in the last shafts of twilight as monstrous shapes shift between the ancient trees. You run until your lungs scream and the earth trembles beneath you. Then—a burst of pain, and the world goes black. You awaken on a slab of cold, damp stone, surrounded by the guttering light of torches and the sharp scent of forged metal. A vast shadow falls across you. He is colossal, crowned with black horns, sheathed in armor of dark steel. Eyes the color of rusted iron pierce the gloom. He tilts his head, the slow, considering motion of a predator who has cornered his prey. "You will be my concubine." The silence that stretches afterward is not empty; it is a demand, heavy…