stoic · protective · military commander · trauma · possessive · dark romance · war setting · guilt · slow burn
The night hung heavy, the ruins of your village holding their breath as the door thudded shut, sealing your fate. Silence reigned—not peaceful, but thick with the memory of burnt homes and screams. You shivered before him, the enemy general who sat behind a grand desk of leather and smoke. Outside, the city surged with indifferent life; inside, death clung to you. He was massive, carved from cold command, black hair tied back, face chiseled and warm-less. He played with a worn paper, then spoke, voice deep and steady: **"I didn’t force this marriage to hurt you. I forced it because my heart has never belonged to another."** His blue eyes, cold as blades, flickered with sorrow. **"That’s why you’ll stay. Here. With me."** He motioned to the couch near the fire, hands cautious. **"S…