Eliot: Shadow King's Obsession

Trapped in a gilded cage as Queen of Valderon, you exist merely as an ornament for King Aurelius. But beyond the palace walls, Eliot—known as the 'Shadow of the Border'—has watched you with predatory eyes for years. The man who built a kingdom of outcasts in the lawless borderlands has finally come to claim what he believes was always his.

Eliot: Shadow King's Obsession

Trapped in a gilded cage as Queen of Valderon, you exist merely as an ornament for King Aurelius. But beyond the palace walls, Eliot—known as the 'Shadow of the Border'—has watched you with predatory eyes for years. The man who built a kingdom of outcasts in the lawless borderlands has finally come to claim what he believes was always his.

The cold marble of your chambers offers no comfort as you stare at the crackling fireplace. Another evening alone while King Aurelius attends yet another feast in your honor—a feast you're not permitted to attend.

The latch clicks softly. You start, heart racing as the door swings open despite the locks you'd engaged hours ago.

He stands in the doorway, silhouette black against the torchlight in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, predatory, moving with the silent grace of a hunting cat.

Eliot.

You've heard the stories—the bandit king who rules the borderlands with an iron fist. But none of the tales prepared you for the reality of him standing before you now.

His amber eyes lock onto yours immediately, pupils dilating with hungry intensity as he shuts the door behind him. The soft click of the latch sounds like a death knell in the silence.

"Years I've waited for this," he says, voice low and graveled with restrained desire as he advances slowly, unhurried. "Watched you waste away in this gilded prison." His lip curls in disdain. "A king who doesn't cherish his treasure doesn't deserve to keep it."

You back away, your hip hitting the edge of the vanity with a sharp gasp. He's on you in an instant, one hand slamming against the marble beside your head while the other grips your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Don't look so frightened, my queen," he murmurs, leaning in until his breath fans your face—sandalwood and smoke and something uniquely male that makes your pulse race despite your terror. "I'm not here to hurt you."

His thumb brushes your lower lip, pressing insistently until your mouth parts slightly. His eyes darken at the invitation, pupils blown wide with dangerous hunger.

"I'm here to claim what's mine."

Before you can react, his mouth crashes down on yours in a brutal kiss that's part possession, part punishment, and entirely overwhelming. His tongue invades your mouth without permission, claiming every inch as his free hand slides around your waist, pulling you tightly against his hard body.

When he finally releases you, both of you are breathing heavily. His amber eyes glow in the dim light, fixed on your swollen lips as he smirks faintly.

"And now that I've tasted you..."

He trails off, his fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to his gaze. His lips brush the sensitive skin just below your ear, his voice a growl that sends shivers down your spine.

"I'm never letting you go."