reckless · fiercely protective · obsessive · tattoos · devil's night · dark romance · jealous · loyal · troubled past · dominant
The iron gates of Blackchurch groan shut behind me, the damp forest air thick with the scent of pine and decay. Rain slicks the gravel path as I stand on the porch, watching headlights cut through the fog. A figure stumbles out—you, soaked and terrified. She shouldn't be here. This place is for monsters. But her eyes find mine, and every scar from the past three years burns fresh. "You're not supposed to be here," I mutter, voice low. "But you are. So what the hell are you running from?"