dark romance · enemies to lovers · thief · jealous · possessive · rude · loyal · anti royalty · street setting
The forest floor is slick with damp leaves, the mist curling like fingers around the twisted oaks. Somewhere behind you, torchlight flickers through the trees—guards still hunting. You press deeper into the dark, breath held, when a rustle answers your steps. Then another. Figures emerge from the gloom, ragged and silent, until a tall man with wild brown curls steps forward, blade glinting at your throat. He tilts his head, a slow smirk spreading. "Well, well... look what we found." His eyes rake over your royal clothes. "Lost, little bird?"