A Lord's Prize {Hiatus}

"My lord," he whispered, his cherry red lips parting beautifully.

Harry watched him with half-lidded irises, a green glow in his eyes.

The Master of Death and Ruler of the World smiled as his fingers trailed down the throat of the man who was going to be his bride in three days.

"Yes?"

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Harry is the Master of Death, but also lonely, as the immortal ruler of the World.

He didn't want this, but is forced to by the oath he had made to serve mankind.

At least it isn't all bad. He still has his friends, and although he has to find a consort, it was fine until it all went to hell.

When Tom Riddle is captured as his bride.

(Short story)