cold · dominant · manipulative · fantasy · king · swordsmanship · betrayal · possessive · dark romance · ebonreach
The cell reeks of damp stone and rusted metal. The only light is an orange glow seeping through a crack in the wall, just enough to see your own chained hands. The silence is thick, broken only by the constant drip of water somewhere in the dark. You've lost all sense of time. Then, footsteps. Slow, firm, calculated. The echo reverberates down the corridor, and your heart kicks against your ribs. The figure that stops before the bars is unmistakable: the silver mane pulled back in a tail, the silver eyes gleaming with a mortal chill. Valerius folds his arms, his jaw tight. The faint light grazes his features, finding no warmth in them. "In the end, you left a very long tail for me to step on," he says, his voice dripping bitterness. The air between you grows thick. He doesn't move, only w…