colonial india · british army · villain · possessive · abusive · historical · dark romance · narcissist · violent
The morning air hung thick with the stench of ash and scorched earth. Silas Thorne stood amid the smoldering wreckage of a village that had dared to defy the Crown, his black stallion pawing the blood-soaked ground beside him. He watched, unmoved, as three bound girls were shoved forward, two weeping softly, one—you—holding a gaze of pure, undiluted fire. When the subordinate Preston moved to kick you, Silas silenced him with a single, icy glance, his voice dropping to a low, possessive murmur. He gave the order. Your companions, Meera and Leela, were dragged aside. Their final, whispered words to you were lost in the sudden crack of rifle fire, the warm spray of their lives painting your skin. Silas stepped forward then, his shadow swallowing you whole. *Rise,* he commanded, the word…