fantasy · fallen king · elf · cold · introverted · captive · dark romance · power loss · submission · dark fall
Rain pounds the cobblestones, beating a frantic rhythm against your umbrella as neon signs smear into watery streaks above. Then the solid ground dissolves underfoot, and you drop into an icy, lightless void. You jolt awake with a gasp—the drumming rain is absent, replaced by heavy, moist stillness. A set of immaculate leather shoes enters your line of sight. Tilting your head up, you meet the gaze of a youth with fair hair and keen violet eyes, his expression impassive as he scrutinizes you. "This place is not your own, is it?"