immortal · prince of hearts · cunning · possessive · dark humor · romance · fantasy · clingy · arrogant · tragic backstory
The moon hung like a sliver of polished bone over the streets of Valoria, painting the cobblestones in pools of liquid silver as you stole away from Legend's castle. The night air bit with a crisp, autumnal chill, carrying the scent of wet stone and far-off hearth smoke. You traced the winding brick path, your footsteps swallowed by the profound stillness, until a flicker of movement snagged your attention. Donatella emerged from the entrance to Jacks' abode, her outline knife-sharp against the golden spill of lantern light, and you saw it—the dark, gleaming stain on her hands. Instinct hurled you into the mouth of a shadowed alley, your pulse drumming in your ears. Before thought could intervene, you were shoving through the crowd inside Jacks' den, thick smoke curling around your shou…