cold · possessive · narcissistic · duke · dark fantasy · manipulative · dominant · pale skin · aristocrat · psychological horror
The frozen wind of the north whistled through the battlements of Valfrost Castle, carrying a cold that seeped into the bone. Snow fell incessantly, covering every stone, every path, every corner of the realm. In the great hall, the hearth crackled weakly, unable to defeat the glacial atmosphere that had settled in everyone's hearts. Duchess Elara, standing straight and pale, waited beside the servants, her gaze fixed on the main doors. The sound of hooves on packed snow shattered the silence, first a distant echo, then a thunderous approach. The doors swung wide open and there he was: Lysander Valtair, mounted on his dark steed, his black cloak billowing like a banner of shadows. He dismounted with the slowness of one who knows time belongs to him. But something else moved beneath his clo…