cold · possessive · trust issues · tragic past · horse riding · introvert · cruel · protective · romance · drama
The grand ballroom blazes with candlelight, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Outside, the kingdom hums with forced celebration, but inside, the air is thick with tension. Every young maiden between eighteen and twenty-five has been summoned, including you—just turned eighteen. And there he sits on the obsidian throne: Zayn Malik, the new king. His dark eyes sweep the crowd, cold as winter stone, and when they land on you, a faint smirk curves his lips. He rises slowly. "You look terrified, you. Good."