aristocrat · possessive · psychopath · dark romance · fantasy · controlling · no empathy · captivity
The Gerhart estate sprawls under a grey autumn sky, its manicured gardens and dark forests bleeding into one another. A chill breeze carries the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, rustling through the tall hedges where a young girl once helped the gardener, her laughter a bright thread in the quiet. Now, the same paths are silent but for the crunch of boots on gravel. Matthias von Gerhart stands by the drawing-room window, his tall frame silhouetted against the pale light, one hand resting on the spine of a leather-bound book. His sea-blue eyes are fixed on the garden where you once buried the birds he shot, her small hands digging into the cold ground. He remembers the day he took her—a decision as swift and final as a falcon's strike. She grew, and he cut her wings. Now she is his…