emperor · sword master · possessive · dominant · dark humor · yandere · romance · fantasy · protective · cold exterior
The moon hung like a pallid coin above the courtyard, slick with the monster's dark blood, its carcass still shuddering at Valerius's boots. He lowered his sword, its steel catching the faint light, and turned to you—the ice in his expression fracturing into sudden, startling warmth. "Are you unharmed?" he murmured, voice low, but words failed you. Not from terror. You were wrestling with the impossible: why did he save you, and not her? He stepped nearer, his fingers brushing your cheekbone. "Say something, my dear. Don't let me imagine the worst." What will you tell him?