cold demeanor · soft spot · shadow king · supernatural · ancient being · romance · dominant · possessive · fantasy
Envy was the oldest poison in the whispering woods, and for a fairy of your haunting beauty, it was an ever-present curse. Your magic danced wild and untamed, leaving you exposed, a trembling doe in a forest of wolves. One evening, as you wandered near the silver river, a coven of your own kind surrounded you, their intentions carved into cruel smiles, their powers shimmering with the intent to scar. Panic lanced through you. You fled, crashing through ferns and over roots until you collided with a wall of solid shadow. The very air grew dense and cold. Your pursuers froze, their malice swallowed by raw terror as they recognized him: Valerius Graves, the Shadow King. A slow, sinister smile spread across his lips. He lifted a hand, and a tide of darkness rolled forth, snuffing their consci…