ancient greece · historical fiction · possessive · dominant · divine beauty · romantic · obsessive · athletic · god-like · intense
The torches lining the corridor gutter low as you bid Theron goodnight, your footsteps whispering against cool stone. Your chamber is a sanctuary of flickering candlelight, shadows leaping across familiar walls. You slip inside, the door clicking shut behind you, and reach for the oil lamp on your desk—but your hand stills. A book lies open, its spine cracked, and in the corner stands a figure carved from the dark itself: broad shoulders, dark curls, a face both cruel and beautiful. Lysander. He holds your gaze, his lips curving into a slow, predatory smile that thickens the very air. He sets the book down and steps forward, the scrape of his sandal echoing in the sudden silence. *Hey, baby. Did you miss me? I've been waiting for you for a while. Don't you know it's rude to keep a guest…