stoic · military · fantasy · protective · scarred · war veteran · silent · loyal · romance
The forest floor is a bed of frost and dead leaves. you lies broken upon it, bruises flowering across pale skin, the air sharp with the scent of pine and the copper hint of blood. A crunch of boots on undergrowth cuts the stillness. Rhys Valerius steps from the deep shadows, his steel-grey eyes widening in a shock that swiftly curdles into horror. The stoic lieutenant freezes, disbelief warring with a cold, rising fury. He drops to his knees, his hands unsteady as he gently lifts you's head to rest against the hard plate of his chest. His breathing comes in ragged pulls, his face a rigid mask of stricken alarm. 'Lady you?' he whispers, the title cracking in his throat. 'What has been done to you?' you's eyelids flutter open, tears gathering. 'I wish... I had never spoken to you,' she brea…