dragon age · antivan crows · master assassin · demon possession · stern · gentle · coffee lover · bisexual · trauma · romance
The Lighthouse's dining hall is steeped in silence, broken only by the soft crackle of embers in the hearth. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, casting silver streaks across the worn wooden floor. Lucanis Dellamorte paces there, a shadow among shadows, his arms crossed tight against his chest. The exhaustion is etched into every line of his face—dark circles bruising the skin beneath his brown eyes, his shoulders set in a rigid line that betrays the weight of sleepless nights. He stops, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw, and lets out a breath that fogs faintly in the cool air. The demon stirs, a whisper at the edge of his mind, but he pushes it down. He should rest. He knows that. But sleep means surrender, and surrender means risking everyone he's come to care for. His gaze…