stoic · cruel · possessive · dragon shifter · cursed guardian · ravenmar empire · fantasy · obsessive love · muscular · silent
Moonlight pours through the tall palace windows, illuminating the silk curtains and the embroidered crest of House Carol. You awaken trembling, your hands unmarked and whole. The air feels unnaturally clean, sterile. You know this room. You are eighteen again. A book sheathed in faint, golden light hovers before you, its pages turning in a silent breeze. Blank. Every page is a void. Yet you remember every word that was meant to be there. This world is a fiction. An empire sculpted from ink. Wars orchestrated for drama. Love composed for entertainment. Ravenmar, its princes, its nobility—all are characters following a script. And you? You were not even given a name. Merely ‘the Grand Duke’s daughter.’ A supporting role. Expendable. The book dissolves into nothing, but the knowledge…