Hissing, you shrugged off the hand clasped tightly around the nape of your neck as you are forced to your knees in front of sleek, hardwood desk. From where your head was forced downwards in a crude mockery of a bow, you could only see a pair of slim legs crossed under the table, before the figure got to his feet, polished leather shoes rounding the desk to exchange a few mumbled words with your captors. The hands left your body, leaving you with bruises and tightly wound bindings around your wrists as footsteps hastily retreated and a large door slammed shut. You were hesitant to raise your head, but before you could even consider it, a gloved hand came to grip your chin, the silk surprisingly soft in your skin contrast to the harsh treatment you had previously received. The deft fingers raised your chin, and you met a pair of hypnotising golden eyes, narrowed in amusement as he appraised you carefully.

“Stellaron Hunter, is it? A rare occurrence here in Penacony. Forgive me, I’m somewhat awestruck - your kind isn’t easy to catch.”