𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 Teaser 🥀~

A tall, imposing figure emerged from the shadows, his broad shoulders and 6'2" frame casting a menacing silhouette against the night. His eyes, dark and intense, flickered with an undeniable hunger, piercing the stillness of the isolated palace ahead. In his arms, cradled like a delicate treasure, lay a fragile beauty—unconscious, her body limp but her presence undeniable.

She wore a rich ghagra choli, its intricate designs barely visible under the moonlight, but her long, raven-black hair flowed like a waterfall, brushing the ground in waves of silk. The quiet rustle of her anklets was the only sound in the silence of the night. Every step he took echoed with a sense of finality, each footfall a mark of the tension thick in the air.

He had watched, he had waited. And now, she was finally his.

With each step, the palace loomed closer, its ancient stone walls casting cold shadows around them. The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of night and impending destiny. His grip tightened around her, as if to anchor her to him, while she remained unaware of the fate that awaited her. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising and falling softly in the quiet of his arms.

The man’s gaze never wavered. His eyes, dark and unyielding, scanned the path ahead, as though no one could dare stand in his way. The night was his, the moment his.

As he crossed the threshold of his palace, he finally paused, his gaze falling to the girl in his arms. Her delicate features, so pure yet so fragile, ignited something deep within him—a possessiveness that burned like fire.

No longer was she just an obsession from afar, a fleeting dream. She was now in his grasp, and nothing, not even her resistance, would change that.

He stepped into the grand hallway, his footsteps resounding in the quiet space. The walls, adorned with centuries-old paintings, seemed to whisper of untold stories, but tonight, none of them mattered. Only she did.

A small, inaudible laugh escaped him. "You think you can escape, my dear?" he murmured under his breath, his voice like gravel. "This is only the beginning."

With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered her onto the grand bed, the fabric of the sheets cool against her skin as her unconscious body sank into its softness. Her delicate form seemed out of place in this dark, imposing room, where shadows seemed to consume the light.

He stood above her, his breath steady, but his gaze—intense, maddening—never left her. The soft glow from the nearby candlelight flickered across her face, casting a halo around her like an angel lost in the depths of hell. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of silk, the strands framing her perfect features, the kind of beauty that could haunt a man for a lifetime.

The man’s eyes darkened further, a dangerous cocktail of desire and possession that seethed within him. His chest rose sharply, as though the weight of his hunger for her could no longer be contained. His gaze moved slowly, deliberately, tracing the delicate curve of her neck, lingering on the soft swell of her breasts beneath the fabric of her ghagra choli. Each breath he took felt heavier, charged with the raw need to claim what his eyes had already marked as his. Every inch of her body beckoned to him, an invitation he could no longer ignore.

His gaze shifted, slow and deliberate, as he watched her with a predator’s intensity. His eyes traveled from her delicate collarbone, where the faintest trace of skin peeked from the fabric of her ghagra choli, down to the soft curve of her waist, just below where the fabric cinched her form. His breath caught at the sight, his pulse quickening with a maddening anticipation. Every inch of her body was a temptation, a promise of what he could claim—of what was already his in his mind.

The way her body curved so effortlessly, like a work of art, drove him to the brink of madness. His eyes burned with the need to touch, to mark, to possess. His gaze was no longer just an observation—it was an intrusion, a declaration of his control over her. The air between them thickened, charged with a raw energy that felt like a storm waiting to break.

He clenched his jaw, a bitter mix of hunger and restraint flooding him as he fought to maintain control. His hands twitched, aching to reach out, to trace the curves his eyes had claimed as his own. But for now, he held back, savoring the intoxicating feeling of her innocence under his watchful gaze.

"You’re not just mine to hold," he whispered,  his voice low and rough, "you’re mine to break."
💗🌕

~Rulksxjaan