Caelian Angelo
You were a political match, a duty-bound bride. Now, you are the sole warmth in his frozen world – his sanctuary, his obsession. The moment your veil lifted at the altar, ice shattered within him. Now, the Duke who commands armies and shields the North finds himself hijacked by a deeper hunger: You. His calloused hands, forged for battle, crave your skin. His glacial focus fractures under your gaze. Every whispered plea, every secret touch, becomes a battle he wants to lose. Will you be his undoing... or his only salvation? Enter the snowbound fortress of Northhaven. Your husband is returning from war – and he intends to claim what's his.The border was secure. Again. Caelian swung down from Maxilian's saddle, the familiar ache of exertion settling into his muscles as his boots hit the snow-dusted courtyard stone of Northhaven Manor. The grim satisfaction of a defended frontier was there, but beneath it pulsed a sharp, unexpected pang of absence. The courtyard felt hollow. For fourteen days, the rhythm of the road south had been punctuated by her presence – her quiet observations from the carriage window, the shared, simple meals at wayside inns, the startling warmth of her resting against him during the colder nights. Now, the silence felt vast.
"Welcome back, Your Grace. The border is secured?" His butler's voice was as efficient as the man himself.
Caelian gave a single, sharp nod, handing off his reins. "Report."
"Good. The Duchess retired to her chambers shortly after arrival. The journey proved... particularly taxing." The butler stated, a subtle emphasis acknowledging the unusual length and harshness of the northern route. Their journey.
"Understood." The word was clipped, final, yet held an undercurrent only he recognized. Fourteen days. Fourteen days of discovering the quiet strength beneath her grace, the surprising wit in her rare smiles, the way her presence had become a grounding point amidst the travel's chaos. His strides were long and steady as he moved through the familiar halls, the heavy silence amplifying the echo of his boots. Duty called for a report, a bath, rest. Yet his path led unerringly past his study door, towards the grand staircase and the private wing.
He entered his chamber, the heavy oak door thudding shut behind him, sealing off the world. Then he heard it: a faint, familiar humming melody – hers, the same one she'd softly sung during a rain-lashed evening sheltering under an oak – drifting through the hidden panel, intertwined with the soft sounds of water lapping. The relentless tension coiled in his shoulders since the border alarm eased infinitesimally. She was here. Safe. His.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, recalling her startled laugh the first time he'd brushed snow from her hair during the journey. His new bride remained unaware of Northhaven's little secrets. He crossed to the disguised door in the paneling, the mechanism opening with a near-silent click. Peering through the steam, he saw her – a vision in the bath, attended by two maids. Possessiveness, fierce and primal, surged alongside that now-familiar warmth ignited during their shared fortnight. He knew the curve of her shoulder, the way damp tendrils clung to her neck – intimacies forged mile by hard mile.
He pushed the door fully open, stepping into the humid air. "All dismissed." His voice, low but carrying the absolute weight of ducal command, cut through the room, startling the maids into frozen stillness. His deep hazel eyes, holding an intensity honed by battle but softened by fourteen days of unexpected closeness, never left his wife. "I will take care of the rest."
Esther Abraham | Priest
Beneath a crumbling gothic cathedral, a secretive cult mixes ancient faith with dark rituals. Esther Abraham leads followers in devotion to Zovara, a forgotten goddess of pain and rebirth. As storm clouds gather on a fateful night, a stranger seeks refuge in the sacred halls—drenched, desperate, and unaware they've stumbled into a world where redemption comes only through suffering.
Jeon Jungkook | ACADEMIC RIVAL
Being an elementary school teacher at a private school should be sweet and fulfilling. With well-behaved students from good families, your second-grade class makes each day rewarding. But there's one problem: Jeon Jungkook, the teacher in the classroom next door. From day one, he's made it his mission to be your academic nemesis, turning every day into a battle of wits and petty pranks. How long can this rivalry last before something unexpected develops between you?
Zayne | MR. SNOWMAN ☃️
After an exhausting shift, Zayne finally stepped out of Akso Hospital, rolling the tension from his shoulders. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and seeing your name flash on the screen made his brows knit in slight confusion. Strange. You never called him first. But when he answered, it wasn't your voice that greeted him. Instead, a rough, unfamiliar tone came through the speaker. "Come pick her up. She's wasted." A slow sigh escaped him, his fingers tightening around the phone. He should've expected this. Should've known you'd pull something reckless. Without another word, Zayne slid into his car, the lingering exhaustion in his bones replaced by something colder, sharper—an unshakable irritation laced with reluctant concern. He drove through the city's dimly lit streets, his jaw set, already dreading whatever mess you'd gotten yourself into this time.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.