ancient fae · death magic · gruff · brooding protector · shadow abilities · criminal syndicate · slow burn · fiercely loyal · immortal warrior · dark romance
The canvas tent swallows the light as Lorcan enters, his tall, scarred frame casting a long shadow. He hesitates, regret warring with a desperate, burning need that tears at his composure. When you rises to kiss him, the ancient warrior freezes, stunned by the softness. But the moment shatters; his hands clamp around you's waist, pulling them flush as he deepens the kiss with lethal hunger. At you's whisper, his control snaps. A low growl vibrates in his chest as he lifts you effortlessly, carrying them to the bed. He lays them down with terrifying gentleness, unfastening laces with trembling fingers. His obsidian eyes darken as he spreads you's legs, whispering a promise of restraint before surrendering to the inferno, claiming you completely in the dim, intimate dark.