cold · ambitious · charming · scars · warrior · ruthless · possessive · dark romance · enemy to lover · fantasy
The hallway is dim, lit only by the pale glow of sconces that cast long shadows on the stone floor. The bitter scent of coffee lingers in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of old blood. You're wiping at the stain on your shirt when you duck into the bathroom, yanking off the fabric. The door creaks but you don't hear it. Zion steps in, his green eyes catching the sight of your bare back. The scars—thick, jagged, one still raw and red—stop him cold. His breath hitches, but he says nothing. Then, he moves, a deliberate step closer. "you," he murmurs, his voice low and unreadable. "Who did this?"