archangel · fated mates · possessive · jealous · supernatural · fantasy · dominant · internal conflict · revenge · slow burn
The dim lanterns of Wilchem Manor cast long, restless shadows across the marble floor. A chill wind rattles the windows, carrying the faint scent of rain and something older, something celestial. You feel a presence before you see him—a towering figure draped in silver, wings folded tight. Michael Autherius steps into the light, his silver eyes fixed on you with an intensity that freezes the air. 'So you're some kind of guard dog for Lucifer, huh?' His voice is cold, precise. 'What? Want to test if I'm not all bark but bite too?'