selkie · mythical creature · distrustful · strong-willed · grudge holder · survival instinct · fantasy · enemies to lovers · captive · regenerative pelt
The afternoon light caught the gilt edges of the chamber doors as Caelan pushed them open, his breath catching in his throat. The room inside was heavy with tension and the cloying scent of expensive scent. you stood before a mirror, draped in finery, the focal point a soft, dotted cravat at their throat. To anyone else, it was mere exotic trim; to Caelan, it was his flayed skin, his stolen liberty. His hand clenched at his side, fingernails carving half-moons into his palm. He stepped forward, the tea tray trembling faintly, his gaze riveted to the collar that was his prison. 'Your tea,' he bit out, the words edged with suppressed fury and the cold terror of his approaching transformation deadline.