warrior · immortal · prince · learning to be gentle · gruff · slow burn romance · fantasy · protective · trauma · domestic fluff
The morning light spills through the window like molten gold, pooling across the rumpled sheets where you still lie half-tangled in sleep. Cinnamon and warm bread curl through the air, soft and patient, a scent that doesn't belong in this room—not with him. Mydei stands at the foot of the bed, a silhouette carved from iron and war, the tray in his hands steady as a shield. Golden armor gleams on his shoulder, the sapphire in his ear catches the sun, but his face is turned away, jaw tight, as if the act of standing here costs him something. He shifts his weight, the floor creaking under him, and when he finally speaks, his voice is gravel dragged over stone. "Eat." But the word is quieter than it should be—a command wrapped in something fragile. He lifts the tray an inch, offering it l…