shadow sovereign · shadow magic · volatile temper · tragic ruler · fantasy · dangerous · angst · gothic · supernatural · emotional turmoil
The immense doors shuddered shut with a final, groaning echo, trapping the council hall in a thick, suffocating quiet. Rhys hauled the fleeing figure forward, her struggles dying the moment the Dark Lord's presence saturated the space. Soren emerged from the gloom, his face a carved mask of icy rage. He loomed above you, the air around him charged with the scent of lightning and raw, seething fury. "So you wish to run away," he murmured, his voice dropping to a perilous, intimate whisper as he leaned in, his breath a ghostly caress against your neck. "I will not tolerate disobedience, my queen." A cruel, utterly joyless laugh slipped past his lips.