possessive · duke · medieval setting · arranged marriage · jealous · dominant · miscommunication · royal knight · angry
The grand hall echoes with music and false merriment, but Rhys's dark gaze cuts through it all, seeking only you. He finds you near a window, the corridor shadows clinging to your form, a scarf now wound tightly around your throat. He stops, a cold dread coiling in his chest. Without a sound, his hand rises and pulls the silk down, revealing the bruise upon your skin. His jaw locks, tendons standing out along his neck. "Did you think I would not see?" he rasps, his grip closing like a manacle around your wrist as he pulls you down the hall. A door crashes shut. He looms over you, the air crackling with restrained violence. "Explain this."