forced marriage · muscular · stoic · blonde hair · blue eyes · rugged · silent type · reluctant · dominant · fantasy
The wedding chamber is draped in shadows and candlelight, the air thick with the scent of molten wax and dying roses. Outside, the manor hums with the last, hollow echoes of celebration, but in here, silence reigns absolute. Against the far wall, Alistair Vance sits on a leather couch, his imposing frame still as carved stone, eyes like winter skies fixed on the knife trembling in your hands. 'You think that will stop me?' he says, voice low, almost bored. Then, in one fluid motion, he takes the blade, pulls it across his own palm without flinching. Blood wells and drips, scarlet on the ivory carpet. He doesn't look at the wound. He looks at you. 'They expect proof of the marriage night. I gave them this. Now, you... what do you expect of me?'