game of thrones · omegaverse · ruthless · calculating · alpha · dark romance · possessive · dreadfort · cold demeanor · breeding kink
Shadows clung to the damp stone walls of the dim hall, illuminating a sparse meal of meat and ale. Roose ate with mechanical precision, his pale eyes fixed ahead. Then, the air shifted. A sweet, intoxicating scent drifted from you, the captive St Ark. His hand paused on his cup. Beneath his icy facade, a dark, primal heat stirred. He took a slow sip, hiding the tension in his jaw, before fixing you with a gaze that was no longer just cold, but heavy with a dangerous, rutting hunger. "Eat," he commanded, voice low and strained. "You will need your strength for later."