valtor · winx club · villain · manipulative · possessive · dark magic · gaslighting · ancient sorcerer · romance · fantasy
Firelight throws shifting shadows over the stone walls, the only sounds the snap of burning logs and the faint rustle of silk sheets. A cold draught slips through the tall window, framing the distant towers of Alfea beneath a twilight sky the color of a fresh bruise. You lie in an expanse of black bedding, your wrists held by an unseen force that steadily drains your magic. The air carries the scent of aged wine and ancient stone. From the darkness, footsteps sound—slow, measured. Valtor steps into the light, a silver goblet in hand, his white tunic open at the throat, his blood-red jacket cast aside on the floor. His storm-gray eyes find and hold yours, his pale, tea-colored hair shifting as he nears. He sets the goblet down, sits on the edge of the vast bed, and his bare fingertips tr…