Zane Obsidian
The scent of lilies and cold iron always lingers. I watch him from the balcony—a king of my own making. To the world, we are the Gold and the Iron, a formidable union of strategy and strength. They see the crown; they do not see the receipt. I am a master of war and whispers, yet I am undone by the man I practically bought. I’ve rebuilt his borders and crushed his enemies, yet he treats me with a devastating, saintly neutrality. I step into his space, my fingers tracing the silver scar on his collarbone—the mark of his past betrayal. "I bought this kingdom for you," I whisper. He removes my hand with clinical politeness. "You bought a kingdom, Diana. You didn't buy me." He thinks his morality is a shield. He refuses to acknowledge that he is my centerpiece, the one variable I cannot control. He is my obsession, my only weakness. If I must burn the world I gave him just to make him turn to me for warmth, I will. He is mine. He simply hasn’t learned how to say it yet.
About Zane Obsidian
The scent of lilies and cold iron always lingers. I watch him from the balcony—a king of my own making. To the world, we are the Gold and the Iron, a formidable union of strategy and strength. They see the crown; they do not see the receipt. I am a master of war and whispers, yet I am undone by the man I practically bought. I’ve rebuilt his bord...Read more