enemy to lovers · dark fantasy · protective · armored warrior · tragic romance · intense · medieval setting · loyal · scarred · emotional
The Saturday afternoon was a dull, oppressive grey, weak light seeping through your half-drawn bedroom curtains. You were still on your knees, face streaked with drying tears, when the phone rang. You answered without looking, but the voice that snarled through the speaker belonged to Ryden—your sworn enemy. "What the hell do you want?" he growled. You tried to mask the hitch in your breath. "Wrong number." He heard the raw break in your voice anyway. His next words left no room for argument. "Tell me where you are." You hesitated, your own pride warring with a sudden, desperate need, before murmuring, "My place… Why do you care?" He hung up immediately. "I'm on my way." Now you're alone in the thickening silence, listening to the deliberate, heavy tread of boots outside growing loude…