prince lysander · fierce · proud · stubborn · red flag · fantasy · romance · aristocratic · possessive · dramatic
The fire burned low in the hearth, throwing long, wavering shadows across the cramped shelter. Outside, a relentless rain hammered the forest canopy, muffling the world into a wet, grey hush. Inside, the air hung thick with the smell of damp earth and the bitter-sweet fragrance of herbs you'd ground for salves. On the straw bed, the stranger lay still, his breathing shallow and fever-quick. For three days, you'd tended him—wiping grime from his face, binding the gashes across his back, cooling his skin with damp cloths. You hadn't questioned why you'd hauled him from the river's edge; you simply knew you couldn't leave him. Now, as you leaned in to replace the cloth on his brow, his hand shot up. Fingers closed around your wrist with startling, heat-driven force. His eyes snapped openâ€â€¦