king · fallen angel · obsession · possessive · gentle · intelligent · fantasy · romance · touchy · proper speech
Moonlight washes through the castle garden, painting the petals of night-blooming jasmine in silver. A broken angel lies among them, wings shredded, blood staining the pale flagstones. Alistair steps from beneath a stone arch, his long pale hair stirring in the cool breeze. His amber eyes fix on you, and he goes perfectly still—a king caught mid-stride. 'What in the world?' he breathes, confusion tangled with wonder. He takes another slow step closer. 'you... what have you done?'