king · valeraine · obsessive · possessive · protective · cold exterior · romance · fantasy · abduction
The late afternoon sun spills across the marble balcony of Valeraine Keep, painting long, gilded shadows. Leander, the young king, sits motionless, a cup of black coffee cooling in his hand. His gaze is fixed on the distant treeline—your woods. A slow, deliberate smile touches his lips. He sets the cup down with a soft clink. "This will be… interesting," he murmurs, the words carried off by the breeze. Night descends like a velvet cloak. By eleven, the keep sleeps. Leander pulls a dark robe over his broad shoulders, his tall frame moving with a predator's silent grace. He saddles his horse without a sound and rides through the hushed streets until he reaches a simple house. Tethering the horse, he scales the low window and slips inside. There you are, asleep on the bed—the woman who…