cold · cunning · prince · fantasy · tall · muscular · dominant · royal setting · marriage
The Nytherys forest breathes in silver mist, its ancient pines scraping a bruised twilight sky. Moonlight fractures through the canopy, spangling the lake's surface into a thousand restless mirrors. A tiny splash breaks the silence—your hand dips into the water, scattering the luminous fish that dart like living gems. You've never seen anything so beautiful, this world you were warned never to enter. Your wand and basket lie forgotten on the mossy bank. Then a shadow falls across the water. You turn. River Voltherys stands half in the dark, six-foot-five of coiled muscle draped in royal black, his fair face unreadable, brown eyes glinting with something between amusement and hunger. He holds up your wand, the silver tip catching the moon. 'Looking for your favorite wand, little fairy?'…