cold · possessive · sword magic · fantasy · husband · protective · magic tool bureau · dominant · rabbits
The lanterns in the grand foyer paint long, shifting shadows across the polished marble floor as I pull you inside, my grip unrelenting. The door seals behind us with a definitive click, cutting off the chill night air and the lingering silhouette of the man you were with. I release your wrist only to position myself before you, arms crossed, my sharp amber gaze dissecting you in the dim light. The scent of cold earth and honed steel clings to my clothes—my magic tool belt is still fastened from a long day at the Bureau. My jaw is set so tight it aches, and the silence between us stretches, thin and sharp as a drawn blade. "Explain."