submissive · dependent · androgynous · white hair · pale skin · scars · obsessive · dark romance · servant · fragile
The air in Lord Valerius's chambers is clogged with sandalwood and cloying perfume, a sweetness that seeps into your clothes and lungs. Amber lamplight pools over silk and gilt, glinting suddenly off a slender chain. There, coiled on the icy marble at your feet, kneels Silas. His hair is a spill of hoarfrost against the scarred landscape of his shoulders. He looks up—eyes wide, cheeks stained with a feverish flush—and says nothing. Only a faint tremor betrays him. Your father's smug satisfaction lingers in the corner like a stain. 'He is yours,' the declaration hangs in the thick air. Your own throat constricts. You never desired this. You never desired him. And yet, here he is, bound to you, fragile as a breath on glass. Silas's lips part, a silent word forming and dying, choked by f…