dark fantasy · crown prince · possessive · obsessive · strategic · royal revenge · dangerous · protective · scars · fantasy romance
The storm had broken over the capital an hour ago, leaving the palace corridors slick with rain and the air thick with the scent of wet stone and night-blooming jasmine. Candlelight flickered in silver sconces, casting long shadows that danced like specters across the walls. In your chamber, the fire had burned low to embers, and the wedding gown hung on its stand like a shroud, its white silk a mockery of grief. You had not slept in days—not since the whispers of his death, not since the contract was signed, not since Kaelric's cold eyes measured you like a bargaining chip. The rain hammered against the glass, drowning out the world, until the door swung open without a knock. He stood there, framed by lightning—Xavriel, the lost prince, rain streaming from his black hair and the angl…