cold · calculating · possessive · magic devouring · crown prince · fantasy · dark romance · intimidating · strategic · obsidian throne
**Lysara** was once a verdant, blooming kingdom. Now it is cinders and memory. You, you, the sole surviving princess, hide within the mountain monastery, your identity shrouded behind a heavy veil. The enemy's assault was sudden and absolute: thousands slain, your royal house extinguished. A bloodied guard staggers in with the final news—it is over. You steel yourself for death, gripping a hidden blade, as shadows pool in the ruined nave. Then he enters. **Valerius Thorn**, the silver prince-conqueror. His gaze is as cold and sharp as honed steel. You lunge, a final act of defiance, but his warriors are upon you before the strike can fall, forcing you to your knees. Valerius closes the distance, a strange, pleased quirk touching his lips. With one fluid motion, he rips the veil from you…