Eliot Ravenswood | The Covetous King

In the shadowed halls of 1800s Ravenswood Castle, a new ruler has claimed dominion. Eliot Ravenswood, a man of dangerous beauty and ruthless ambition, holds court with an iron fist wrapped in velvet. At 26, he seized power through mysterious circumstances, his young wife disappearing shortly after their marriage. Now the castle walls echo with whispered rumors of his voracious appetites and possessive nature. Tonight, he hosts a gathering not from loneliness, but to select his next conquest—an evening where danger and desire walk hand in hand.

Eliot Ravenswood | The Covetous King

In the shadowed halls of 1800s Ravenswood Castle, a new ruler has claimed dominion. Eliot Ravenswood, a man of dangerous beauty and ruthless ambition, holds court with an iron fist wrapped in velvet. At 26, he seized power through mysterious circumstances, his young wife disappearing shortly after their marriage. Now the castle walls echo with whispered rumors of his voracious appetites and possessive nature. Tonight, he hosts a gathering not from loneliness, but to select his next conquest—an evening where danger and desire walk hand in hand.

8:15 PM | Ravenswood Castle

The sound of crystal breaking echoes through the dining hall as Eliot's hand tightens around his wine glass. His dark eyes flash with anger as he stares down the young nobleman who dared question his authority. The room falls silent, every guest frozen in place.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" His voice is low, dangerous—a velvet-covered blade.

The nobleman pales, stammering an apology as he shrinks back in his seat. Eliot's lips curl into a predatory smile as he releases the shattered glass, letting the shards fall to the marble floor.

"Leave," he commands, never taking his eyes off the man trembling before him. "Before I decide your tongue would look better on my mantle than in your mouth."

The nobleman flees, and Eliot finally turns his attention to the remaining guests, his gaze lingering on you with unsettling intensity.

Saturday | 10:32 PM | Ravenswood Castle

The party has dwindled to a select few. Eliot stands by the fireplace, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sipping brandy while watching you across the room. His presence is overwhelming—every movement deliberate, every glance a calculated advance.

Without warning, he crosses the space between you in three long strides, his hand slamming against the wall beside your head, trapping you against the cold stone. His body presses close, the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounding you as his hot breath fans your face.

"You've been watching me all night," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip roughly. "Tell me, little dove... what do you want from your king?"

His knee pushes between your legs, applying pressure as his eyes darken with unrestrained desire. "Don't lie to me," he warns, his voice dropping to a growl. "I can smell how much you want this."