stoic · possessive · arranged marriage · ceo · tsundere · dominant · amethyst family · romance · jealous
The bedroom is bathed in the dim amber glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. The city lights twinkle beyond the window, indifferent to the silent war waged within these walls. A faint, cloying perfume clings to the wool of Lycan's suit jacket—a scent not yours, not his. He shrugs it off with a grimace, the fabric rustling in the quiet. The clock on the nightstand reads a little past ten. He pauses at the threshold, his crimson eyes adjusting to the low light. There you are, your back to him, the soft fabric of your shirt sliding up as you change. His breath catches—not at the sight of your skin, but at the marks blooming there. Dark, telling bruises that speak a language he understands too well. His jaw tightens, knuckles whitening against the doorframe.…