He stood upon the peak of the world—Cloaked in gold, armored like a divine warlord summoned from the highest skies.
His armor shimmered like sunlight on steel, every plate sharp as feathered blades. Reflections danced like knives across his form, a cruel beauty, celestial and cold.
His face was cut from ice and shadow—sharp, noble, unapproachable. Brows arched with dominance, eyes narrow and piercing like a golden eagle's. But in that inky darkness of his gaze, gold filigree shimmered faintly—etched into the iris like ancient runes—glinting beneath the sun as though they could see into a soul and sever it in half.
A fine golden mark stretched from his hairline to his brow—an ancestral sigil of the golden eagles. Holy. Aloof. And terrifying.
Tall, lean, perfectly built—shoulders broad, waist narrow. Muscles coiled beneath his gilded armor like sleeping beasts. When he moved, even the air bowed in reverence.
And sometimes, if you looked close enough, you'd catch a flicker behind his back—A few lone golden feathers still remained. They gleamed like haunted metal, their tips as sharp as knives. A trace of the form he once held—an echo of the golden eagle in its true, terrible glory.
He didn't mingle with mortals.He walked like wind.Even among his kin, they whispered—
"He is the shadow that flies above the sky. He is godlike. Merciless. Untouchable."
But then—
He looked down the mountain for the first time.
And his eyes—those frigid golden eyes—paused on her.
That very instant, the divine chill fractured.And something darker stirred: hunger, possession. A beast's instinct awakened beneath the god's mask.
She had no idea.
No idea that her arrow would pierce not just his shoulder—but his carefully guarded solitude.
No idea that she wasn't hunting the beast.
The beast had chosen her.
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She trespassed into forbidden ground.
She aimed for the monster. Her arrow flew fast. True.
It struck—flesh and blood.
But when she found him… he wasn't a monster at all. Just a man, bloodied and silent beneath the trees.
And instead of slaying her, he whispered coldly:
"You wounded me. Now stay… and repay it with your life."
Then he took her—Swept her away to the golden cliffside palace.
The Hall of Feathers.Where every night… he'd "discipline" her.And every night—She would fall, a little more.