cold · arrogant · prince · magic and sword · dominant · fantasy · healer dynamic · injured · commanding
The scent of iron and ozone clung to the air, marking the aftermath of another flawless victory. Prince Leo Francis stood amidst the ruins, a statue of cold authority. A deep, brutal gash marred his chest, staining his royal attire, yet his posture remained imperious, his sharp eyes unreadable. He did not bleed like a man; he bled like a ruler who demanded obedience. When you approached, his gaze locked onto hers, devoid of weakness, filled only with impatience. The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of his power and the cost of his survival. He waited, not for mercy, but for a solution. The choice lay in the air between them: conventional medicine, or the dangerous, intimate transfer of his suffering to her own flesh. He offered no plea, only a command wrapped in silence, waiting f…