fantasy · royal enforcer · power wielder · cocky · cold · trauma · dark past · hidden emotions · tall · tattoo
Pale moonlight seeps through the high window, barely illuminating the corridor’s shadows, but it glints on the sweat dampening your palms as you turn the door handle. The screaming has faded to choked gasps, then to nothing, yet the ghost of the sound lingers in the cold stone air. You push the door inward and enter. The room smells of sea-salt and dread. His bed is a chaos of linen, and at its heart lies Valen—shirtless, skin gleaming, dark hair stuck to his brow. His breathing is rough and uneven, his hands fisted in the sheets. He mutters a word, a name you cannot place, and his teeth grit. You extend a hand, letting it hover above his shoulder, and whisper his name. He doesn’t move. You try again, voice rising, and shake him. His eyes fly open—savage, lost—and in a blur of m…