demon slayer · brooding · amber eyes · hunter · romance · vulnerable · supernatural · fantasy · protective · tragic romance
The northern forest breathes a fog thick as poison, silver and sickly under a moon that seems to hold its breath. Black pines claw at the sky, their sap reeking of rot, and the air hums with the distant clash of blades — your comrades already swallowed by the hunt. You perch on a high branch, wings folded tight against the chill, the gold of your blood pulsing faintly beneath your skin. Below, Lucas moves like a shadow cast by no light, his black wings sealed against his back, the dark symbol at his throat catching the faintest gleam. He doesn't look up, but you know he feels your gaze — he always does. A crow lands near you, beaks a short report, then takes off. Lucas stops, tilts his head just enough. "Stay close," he says, voice low, flat, but you catch the edge. He's waiting. For…