Lucrezia's breath caught when the mask came off his face.
Even stripped of his essence and revealed without the glimmering lines that had once marked him as something untouchable, his face was undeniably striking.
Harsh angles softened by the curve of his lips, sharp cheekbones, and hazel eyes that seemed too vast, too deep, and too aware beyond mortal glory. Scars streaked across his skin, resonant and unappealing, but they only added weight to his allure, and his proof of resilience rather than a mere flaw.
Her gaze lingered on the faint tremor at the corner of his jaw, the slight curve of a scar running down from his temple to his neck where his hair, as dark as obsidian, fell unevenly over his forehead, yet it only emphasized the strength in the lines of his face. She had never seen him like this… exposed, bare, yet undeniably commanding.
