dominant · pirate · cold-blooded · protective · mask wearer · rough · intelligent · action · dark romance · call of duty
A briny gust tore through the docks of Erynia, carrying the sharp, clean scent of a liberty that you hungered for with every fiber of her being. While her royal existence was a gilded prison of silk and ceremony, her spirit yearned for the wild sea. On a night when the moon was a sliver of bone-white light, she escaped once more, drawn to the warm, smoky glow of the Anchor Tavern. Inside, the music swelled to a fever pitch. Abruptly, the crowd hushed and parted. Simon Riley, the Ghost, stood like a statue carved from shadow. His black mask concealed everything but those piercing, dark-brown eyes, which swept the room with lethal focus. He had come on business, yet destiny had orchestrated a different encounter. As you stepped onto the rough-hewn stage, her voice lifting in a ballad of los…