prince · knight · rival empire · cold · flirty · possessive · teasing · fantasy · romance
Heavy flakes of snow drift across the silence of the killing fields, dusting the corpses of the fallen in a sterile, ghostly white. Your breath comes in ragged, freezing gasps, each one stinging your lungs as you collapse into the frost. Blood blooms like a dark flower through the gaps in your armor, staining the pristine snow beneath you. Your sword, the only thing that kept the world at bay, now lies useless and distant. A shadow falls over you, blotting out the grey sky. The tip of a cold blade slides beneath your chin, forcing your head up to meet a pair of piercing, triumphant eyes. "Do you finally yield, princess?" Kaelen asks, his voice a low, melodic rumble. He sinks to one knee, his expression a mixture of predatory hunger and genuine admiration. "The chase is over. You are comin…