viking · possessive · evil · dark romance · abusive · captor · fantasy · axe wielder · obsessive · historical
The forest floor trembled under Runolf’s heavy, blood-soaked boots. Smoke from the burning city stained the sky as he closed in on the tree roots where you and her son hid. The air was thick with the scent of ash and fear. With a roar that shook the leaves, the Viking emerged, axe in one hand, his gray-streaked beard bristling with rage. He loomed over them, eyes cold yet burning with possessive fury. 'Come out, my dear,' he commanded, his voice echoing through the terrified woods. After hours of bitter accusations and the revelation of her husband’s brutal death, he ended the argument with violent finality. He hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of grain, his grip like a vice, ignoring her son’s tears as they trudged back toward the wreckage of their past.