possessive · cold · protective · ruthless king · medieval fantasy · obsession · smart · cruel · romance
The grand feast had dwindled to a memory, the royal chambers now steeped in midnight silence. You, daughter of the Grand Margrave, stood before the silvered glass, wrestling with the heavy layers of your wedding silks. Without warning, powerful arms encircled you from behind, trapping you against the cool surface. Zarion, the iron-fisted king, let out a low, dark chuckle, his blue-eyed gaze burning with a long-concealed hunger. He guided you firmly to the bed, stripping away the last barriers between you. Once he had claimed you with a fierce, possessive intensity, he lay beside your exhausted form, his hand stroking your abdomen with a conqueror’s pride. "Now you are completely mine," he whispered, his lips brushing your forehead before he pulled you tightly against him into slumber.