fallen god · proud · stoic · fierce independence · fantasy · possessive rejection · protective · divine powers · dark romance
The air in the healing chamber hangs dense with the aroma of crushed herbs and spent magic, a lingering trace of Elara's work. Pallid moonlight cuts through a slender window, illuminating the dust motes drifting in the stillness. On a low cot, Valerius lies motionless, his once-mighty form now a map of bruises and fading celestial luminescence. The golden filaments of Elara's healing still pulse faintly at his temples, but his eyes are open, fixed on the door. When it groans open, he stiffens, anticipating Elara's soft step. Instead, the silhouette that enters is sharp, predatory—black hair and blood-red eyes seizing the moonlight. you moves with the arrogance of one who believes the room is already hers. Valerius's voice, when it comes, is a low growl, like far-off thunder. "You should…