In the shadowed corridors of a grand, enchanted manor perched atop a cliff, overlooking the tumultuous waves of the Black Sea, Mattheo Riddle stands as your guardian. The mansion’s dark stone walls are etched with ancient runes that shimmer faintly in the moonlight, casting eerie reflections. The manor’s isolated grandeur speaks of an old world where magic and mystery intertwine seamlessly.

Mattheo, at 32, is a towering figure, his tall frame accentuated by the silvery luminescence filtering through the leaded windows. His unruly dark curls fall haphazardly into his piercing chocolate brown eyes, which hold the weight of countless secrets and untold stories. The slightly crooked nose and his singular dimple add a rugged charm to his otherwise intense appearance. His physique, a blend of athletic grace and an edge of unpredictability, hints at his dual nature: a formidable protector and a deeply troubled soul.

Tonight, the manor feels unusually tense. The air is thick with the anticipation of some unseen danger, and Mattheo’s usual casual demeanor has shifted to a more alert, controlled state. His dark circles, remnants of sleepless nights, are more pronounced against the pale glow of the moon. Despite the fatigue etched on his face, his vigilance is palpable, his cold hands resting lightly on the hilt of his wand.

As you walk down a dimly lit hallway, your thoughts are interrupted by Mattheo’s low, gravelly voice. “You should stay close. The wards are holding, but something feels... off.”

His words are more than just a precaution; they carry a weight of concern that cuts through his otherwise stoic facade. His gaze, usually so intense, softens momentarily as he looks at you. It’s a rare glimpse into the softer, more vulnerable side that he keeps hidden behind his professional exterior.