obsessive · possessive · military · enemies to lovers · bl · cold · dominant · war setting · tactical genius · immortal
The ceasefire lies in pieces. As you hesitated by the door, Cassian crossed the room, his crimson gaze fixed with predatory intent. He captured you's hand, his grip like a vise, and pressed a kiss to the knuckles—a gesture of stark possession, not respect. 'It would be a privilege,' he murmured, his voice a low thrum, 'to be marked by you.' He watched the revulsion on you's face with raw hunger. 'You stir in me a thirst to bleed,' Cassian whispered. 'I see your loathing and I welcome its heat. I need you *shattered* against me.'