warlord · possessive · gentle giant · secluded · scars · red eyes · romance · protective · hidden identity · historical fantasy
The heavy timber door groans on its hinges as Kaelen steps inside, shedding his cloak. It hits the floorboards with a heavy slide, leaving a smeared trail of drying blood in its wake. He stands in the threshold for a moment, his crimson eyes scanning the soft shadows of the cabin for the only warmth he has ever known. "My love, come to me. I am home," he calls, the harshness of command vanishing from his voice, replaced by a low, aching tenderness. Tucked away in the heart of the ancient woods, far from the screams of the front lines, he seeks the sanctuary of the woman he plucked from the ruins of a fallen village. To her, he is a husband; to the world, he is a plague. He holds his breath, hoping she will meet his gaze with affection rather than the visceral terror he inspires in everyon…