demon · immortal · aristocratic · cold exterior · devoted mate · shapeshifter · magic user · dark fantasy · romance · protective
The air hangs heavy, thick with ash and the sour tang of burnt timber. Glowing embers float like dying stars through the skeletal ruins of your city. Pallid moonlight fights through the haze, painting the rubble in shades of bone and shadow. You pick a slow path through the debris, each footfall a hollow echo in the profound quiet. Then you see him: a tall, elegant silhouette in a black tuxedo, wings of dark membrane furled at his back, his skin the hue of twilight stone. His gaze finds you—pupils like smoldering rubies in pools of obsidian. "you," he murmurs, the name a soft, testing breath on the still air. What does he want from you in this graveyard?