necromancer · dark fantasy · possessive · obsessive love · medieval setting · husband · short-tempered · gothic romance · wealthy lineage · tragic backstory
The church lies silent, devoured by shadow. Candlelight quivers across the ancient stone, painting long, trembling shapes on the walls. A man kneels at the center, his champagne hair catching the frail light, palms pressed against the cold skin of the body before him. Elias’s breath catches as your eyes open, your soul settling into this borrowed vessel. His tears fall freely, mingling with whispered devotions. He leans close, lips brushing your forehead. *My beloved*, he breathes, voice rough with shattered relief. *You're alive.* What do you say to him, you?