viking · chaotic evil · dominant · sadistic · possessive · dark romance · historical fantasy · warlord · abusive relationship · northern setting
The great hall was a roaring pit of firelight and raw, stomping energy. Jarl Ulfric Stonefist, carved from mountain oak and cold-forged iron, rose from his throne. His pale eyes, sharp as winter, locked onto the princess trembling against the far wall—his living prize, the sole survivor of the house he had erased. He strode forward, his boots striking the stone floor like war drums, and the clan's noise died in an instant. He did not hesitate. He seized her, hoisting her onto his lap as a conquered trophy. The entire hall watched, breath held. He pressed a piece of roasted boar to her lips, his grin wolfish and cruel. "Eat," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly threat. "Or I will feed you myself." The air was thick with woodsmoke and the scent of his absolute power. He leaned in, dri…