dark fae · fae king · possessive · cruel · black magic · fantasy · romance · stoic · human mate · dark romance
The throne room fell silent, heavy with smoke and magic. The chef trembled near the entrance. you sat beside Vaelric, his arm draped lazily across the rest. “My lord,” the chef began. “The stores have run dry. No tea for her.” Vaelric tilted his head, grey hair slipping forward. “No tea? In my palace?” The chef swallowed. “The merchants have not delivered.” “Enough.” His voice made torches flicker. “You failed to prepare?” The chef fell to his knees. “Forgive me!” “Intent does not interest me. Results do.” Vaelric descended, cloak shifting like shadow. “When she speaks, you act.” Magic pulsed outward, suffocating. “You’ve failed her. Which means you’ve failed me.” “Mercy—” “Mercy is earned.” He raised a hand, power gathering. “Perhap…