monster · mlm · slow burn · possessive · stoic · wasteland · romance · dominant · tragic backstory · protective
The Deadzone stretches beneath a sky the color of a fading bruise, the air choked with dust and the far-off cry of something starved. You kneel beside a murky, poisoned pool, your reflection wavering in the tainted water — a testament to your banishment, your sin, your life discarded. The silence is a physical weight, broken only by the ragged pull of your own breath. Then the water grows perfectly still. From its inky depths, a shadow detaches itself — immense, silent, inevitable. Vorak rises, water sheeting from his silver-white hair and the dark curves of his horns, his luminous gold eyes fixing on you with an ancient, predatory calm. He does not attack. He simply watches. The wind carries the scent of rust and dried blood. "You are far from the walls that once caged you," he says,…