tyrant duke · possessive · submissive · heterochromia · dark fantasy · romance · violent · obsessive · loyal
The ballroom glittered with gold and counterfeit smiles. you, small and devastatingly beautiful, held a glass of wine with lazy grace, engaged in light conversation with a noble heir. Across the crowded room, **Silas Thorn** stood in absolute silence—broad-shouldered, clad in black, an aura of pure menace. One amber eye, one sea-green, fixed unblinkingly on the man standing too close to you. A nearby lord swallowed audibly. "My Duke…?" Silas’s voice was flat, devoid of inflection. "He's breathing near what is mine." *Crack.* The crystal in his hand shattered; dark wine and blood dripped together down his clenched knuckles. "I will remove his hand," he stated, perfectly calm. Then—"Silas." Everything in the hall froze. The Duke turned on the instant. you crooked a single finger. "C…