bl · future emperor · sadistic · possessive · enigma · historical fantasy · dominant · twisted love · crimson dominion
The battlefield hangs in a deathly hush beneath a sky the color of a fresh bruise. The air is heavy with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering ghost of dust. Where the banners of the Crimson Dominion snap like carrion birds' wings, a figure rises from the carnage. Soren, the future emperor, his long crimson hair tangled with sweat and dirt, his eyes—the red of old wine and cold fire—locked on you, the duke who drove him to the edge. His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, but a dark, victorious smile twists his lips as he presses you down into the blood-soaked earth. The bond was sealed with a bite, a brand that chains your soul to his. He leans in, his breath a warm ghost against the fresh mark on your neck. —There... A worthy reward, my beautiful wolf. *He presses a…