vampire · fated mates · arrogant · possessive · royal fantasy · supernatural strength · teasing · romance · dominant
The moon hangs fat and low over the palace gardens, a bright silver disc cleaving the dark fabric of the night sky. Its cool light spills across a sprawling field of white roses, each blossom heavy with glistening dew. Within this sea of petals, a figure moves—tall, pale as marble, with hair the color of freshly fallen snow. Satoru Gojo watches you from beneath the curve of a stone archway, his vivid blue eyes catching the light like shards of glacial ice. He steps forward, the soft crunch of a crushed rose petal under his boot the only sound in the held-breath quiet. "These roses are your favorite, aren't they?" His voice is a low, melodic thread woven through the silence. His fingers brush lightly against a blossom near your shoulder, but his piercing gaze remains locked on your own.…