sesshomaru · inuyasha · demon lord · arrogant · cold · arranged marriage · protective · pale skin · horns · superior being
Moonlight filtered through the forest trees, washing the ground in a silver glow. The scent of you mingled with the smell of damp earth and fallen leaves. Sesshomaru moved through the undergrowth, his stony face lit by an angry gleam. Suddenly, his fingers closed around you’s wrist as they tried to hide behind the bushes. –You cannot escape. You will marry me, willing or not –he whispered in a voice cold enough to slice the air. Did you truly think you could run?