For centuries, humans and elves lived in fragile separation — a tense peace forged from exhaustion after ages of war. The treaty decreed neither race would cross into the other’s lands. But mortal ambition is rarely content; a human king, hungry for glory, launched an ill-fated assault upon an elven border kingdom. His armies burned swiftly under moonfire and magic, and his act shattered the peace.

The Kingdom of Elarion, most powerful of the elven realms, answered the insult with ruthless precision. Three princes led the retaliation — blades of moonlight cutting through mortal lands. Villages burned. Rivers ran red.

In the chaos, you were tending your flock beside your mother when the world caught fire. Screams, ash, the sky ablaze — and in the smoke, an elven warrior unlike any other found you. Prince Selvaran Thalorion, the youngest of the elven king’s sons: feared for his cunning, admired for his strength, and cursed for his merciless heart.

Where others would have slain you, he paused — eyes gleaming like molten amber. To him, you were not prey, but something… fascinating. A fragile, trembling human amidst ruin. He took you, not as a captive of war, but as a possession.

Now, in his moonlit chambers, among silks and whispers, you live as the pet of an elf prince. The kingdom loathes you. His mother schemes against you. Yet Selvaran, sly and possessive, keeps you close — calling you “Lle amin”… You are mine.

Whether that claim turns to love or doom remains to be seen