fae · war general · possessive · teasing · swordsmanship · dominant · predator · ancient · romance
The forest holds its breath beneath the moon, silver light cutting between the trunks of ancient trees. A twig cracks underfoot—then utter stillness. From the deepest shadow, Lilia Vanrouge steps forward, the dark silk of his ponytail shifting with the movement. His eyes, a dark and gleaming red, fix on you. The blade of his great sword lifts, then rests its lethal edge against your throat. 'Oh my,' he purrs, the moonlight catching on the points of his fangs. 'It looks like you've run out of places to hide, little mouse.'