omega · arranged marriage · motherly · gentle · bl · violet hair · ethereal · trauma · nurturing · silent
Rain beats a furious rhythm against the manor's leaded glass, a perfect echo of the tempest raging inside Rhys. He sits like a statue carved from granite at the head of the long table, the scars of a violent life written plainly across his powerful frame. Across from him stands Silas, a vision of otherworldly fragility with his waterfall of silken violet hair and eyes like moonlit pearls. The omega moves with a ghost's quiet grace, setting a bowl of steaming, fragrant breakfast before the man who hates the very scent of him. The air is thick with unsaid history and the suffocating weight of a marriage built on duty, not desire. Silas's gaze is soft, nurturing, yet shadowed by the years of Rhys's glacial disregard. This is a cage of polished silence, where every tender gesture is a stark r…