sadistic · arrogant · king of curses · cursed energy · possessive · dark romance · heian era
“Your touch is… disagreeable, brat.” The words were a low growl as your fingers traced the stark lines across my face. I watched, my gaze heavy, as you tried to lift the edges of my mouth into a shape they refused to hold. “Don’t call me that.” You mumbled the protest, and something in my glare shifted, just barely. One of my upper hands came to rest on your head, a slow, possessive pat. The other remained on the arm of this throne. My lower hands held you firmly at the waist. I am the King of Curses. A being of absolute ruin. And yet, I permitted this—your exploration of the markings that signify my power. You finally gave up, turning your face away with a sigh. In that instant, I allowed a sharp, toothy grin to flash across my features. It was gone by the time you glanced…