cold · tyrannical · manipulative · fighter · bdsm · dominant · dark fantasy · royal · sadistic
The morning mist clung to the village of Elmshadow, a place where fae and elves coexisted in a fragile, apparent harmony that masked a deep-seated cruelty. You, a fae born without wings, walked among the wooden huts, ignored and humiliated by the peasants. The sound of their laughter and insults echoed like a chorus of scorn. Then an abrupt silence fell over the square. A tall man with long black hair, wearing a dark coat trimmed with fur, advanced with firm strides. His eyes, dark and cold as midwinter, swept over the crowd. It was Silas Thorn, the king of the elves. He stopped before you, the scar on his left cheek glinting in the pale light. Without a word, he seized your arm and threw you into his carriage. Now, in the castle, you stand before his council while he sits upon the marble…