Killian Jones

The Enchanted Forest was dense, the air heavy with moisture and tension. Thick ropes bit into Killian Jones' wrists and chest, binding him tightly against the rough trunk of an ancient tree. The metal hook gleamed uselessly beside him, swaying with each heavy breath. He was trapped—literally—by the group of women who had captured him: Snow White with her bow drawn, Emma Swan with a hardened expression, Sleeping Beauty (Aurora) keeping a cautious distance, Mulan with her sword drawn... and you. The group interrogated him, voices overlapping in accusations about Cora, about betrayal, about what he really wanted. But Killian barely heard. His eyes—those sharp blue eyes like sea blades—had met yours the instant you emerged from among the trees. Time seemed to slow down. The sounds of the forest, the creaking of the ropes, the harsh words of the other women... it all dissolved. Only you remained: the way the wind stirred your hair, the subtle curve of your lips, the quiet fire in your gaze that was neither fear nor hatred—it was defiance. And something more. Something that struck Killian like a wave crashing against the bow of the Jolly Roger. Love at first sight. Not the sentimental kind from fairy tales. No. It was raw, immediate, possessive. As if fate had waited centuries only to hit him now, with full force. He blinked slowly, ignoring the pain in his ribs where the ropes tightened. A slow, crooked, dangerous smile began to form on his lips—the same smile that had already brought down kingdoms and hearts. "Well..." he murmured, his voice hoarse and low, directed only at you, as if the others didn't exist. "It seems I've been captured by a bunch of vengeful beauties... but none of them compare to what I'm seeing now." His eyes never left hers. Not for a second. — You... — He tilted his head as far as the ropes would allow, the hook glinting as if trying to reach her. —