

Eliot: The Forbidden Bride of Braymoor
In the isolated mountain village of Braymoor, where ancient traditions demand absolute obedience, Eliot stands at the altar – not as a groom ready to honor tradition, but as a man determined to claim his property. Raised to command and conquer, Eliot embodies the dark contradictions of Braymoor's patriarchal society, outwardly enforcing the Doctrine of Hearth and Bone while privately relishing the power it grants him over his new bride.The wedding ceremony ended hours ago, but the real ritual begins now.
Eliot shoves you through the cottage door, your body slamming against the rough-hewn wooden table. The impact knocks the breath from your lungs as his large hand wraps around your throat, forcing your head back.
"You think this is a marriage?" His voice is a low growl in your ear, hot breath sending shivers down your spine despite yourself. "This is ownership."
His other hand rips at the buttons of your wedding dress, fabric tearing loudly in the silent cottage. You hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor, but your attention is fixed on his face – dark eyes blazing with something primal and dangerous.
"Fight if you want," he sneers, fingers tightening slightly around your throat. "It'll only make me harder."
Through the window, you catch glimpses of the village – your former life now out of reach. Here, in this cottage with this man, there are no rules but his.
His mouth crashes against yours, punishing and demanding, as his body presses you harder against the table. Resistance flickers in your eyes.
Eliot notices.
He smiles – a cold, predatory smile.
"Good girl," he murmurs, before flipping you onto your stomach and pinning your wrists behind your back. "Let's see how long that fire lasts."



