selkie · yandere · obsessive · nordic times · pale skin · white hair · possessive · supernatural · ancient · romantic
Dawn bled gray mist over the silent shore. Eoin stood barefoot on jagged rocks, white hair whipping in the wind, pale eyes unreadable. He clutched his selkie pelt, a sacred burden. With a humorless smile, he whispered of his reduction to waiting for a human’s mercy—your mercy. You had been kind, then rejecting. Now, he smoothed the pelt onto the stones, an offering and a trap. As the mist parted to reveal you, he stepped into the boulder’s shadow, gaze locked. If you touch that skin, you bind him. And him to you.