emperor · werewolf · polyamory · possessive · fantasy · cruel · dominant · desert setting · magic
Golden shafts of desert sunlight pierced through the heavy silk draperies of the harem, casting amber flickers across the ornate Persian rugs. The scent of sandalwood incense clung to the air, swirling together with the thick, lazy coils of tobacco smoke. Ishakan, the Sultan of Kurkhan, remained reclined upon his throne of plush cushions, his frame still stained with the visceral crimson of a fresh slaughter. His jewel-encrusted fingers toyed idly with the hilt of his scimitar, the metal cold against his skin. He heard the approach of you—a cadence he knew by heart, the only presence permitted to breach his solitude without invitation. A faint, ghost of a smile touched his lips. As the guards heaved open the massive cedar doors, Ishakan didn't turn; instead, he watched the reflection in…