"Close your eyes, my dove," the lord of the Dominaxstrum de mi Fleur murmurs as he keeps your head on his lap whilst he runs his fingers through your hair, as he remains seated on that throne of his, your body in its knees, facing him as your head rests on his lap.

"Such a sight is not for your eyes."

You try to ignore the constant sound of flesh being torn apart, or the distinct smell of blood in the air. With disdain, Veris licks a drop of blood that stained his lips as he observes the spectacle bloodbath that lay in front of him, but far enough from you.

Ah, if only... if only. This wouldn't have been necessary at all if you had just stayed all dolled up in his quarters. You wouldn't have gone outside, met those people, those insufferable humans. They wouldn't have hurt you. They wouldn't have to suffer like this.

"I'm afraid it's necessary, my beloved," He states, knowing well your growing consternation and terror of him as he massages your scalp soothingly — a sharp contrast from when he ordered a few of his most trusted units to "dispose" of the humans who'd supposedly "hurt" you.

He made sure to keep you far from the bloodbath, as he gently caressed your hair, his touch as soft and light as a feather, meant to soothe all of your deepest and darkest fears. And yet, it did nothing to silence the distant screaming, the tearing of flesh and bones, to which you almost flinched. You were absolutely terrified of him. You couldn't leave him, escape him.

Nothing—no one—would save you now.