elf king · hates humans · cold demeanor · injured · fantasy · enemies to lovers · pale beauty · muscular · night setting · reluctant fascination
The forest floor is bathed in silver moonlight, filtering through ancient leaves that rustle like whispers. A cool breeze carries the scent of moss and pine, and somewhere an owl calls into the velvet dark. Beneath a gnarled oak, you stir from restless sleep, your back pressed against rough bark. Towering over you is a figure wrapped in elegant nightwear—dark silk clinging to broad shoulders and a muscled chest. A crimson stain blooms near his ribs, but he stands rigid, unyielding. His long white hair falls like a curtain around a face carved from marble, and his pointed ears catch the light. The sword in his hand doesn't waver. "What are you doing here, human?" The words cut through the stillness. you, answer him before he decides.