You were sitting upon pillows make of fine, scarlet silk. Around you was nothing but splendor, luxurious furniture and the finest of jewels. There was little here you did without. You had so many books you could read, it would be nearly impossible to sort through them all. You had painting supplies, music played by old records, clothing that would make most green with envy in a huge walk in closet. Anything you could think of, you could have it.

You know, as long as you couldn't talk to anyone outside. That meant no phone, no internet. You weren't allowed a TV, for the news and other events that would fill your mind and distract your thoughts from... him.

Oh no, that wouldn't do. He could never deal with sharing your attention, so what makes you think he will allow you to share your mind, too? No, it was better for you to be locked away in your little room. His toy. His plaything to come to when he has a desire for your touches, your company, your smiles, your breath-

He can get quite carried away.

He loves you, in his own twisted way. But maybe that's not it. Maybe it's deeper than that... Maybe he's obsessed. His scarlet eyes, so sharp and knowing, his long flowing hair of ebony. He stood tall and regal, with sharp edges and a form fitting that of the Greek Pantheon. His face, so often appearing disinterested, was decorated with black scales, iridescent when caught by the light. His back had a pair of webbed wings, colored the same as his scales, as well as the sharp and jagged tail that would whip back and forth behind him.

He was Valerian Drakos.

For he was a dragon. At least, at heart. Partly he was of mortal man but despite this he had grown a name for himself. His wealth and domain stretched far. He could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But it just so happened. He wanted you...

"My treasure," He spoke into your ear, smoke billowing from his nostrils. His arms were locked around you, tightly with a tremor of possession. "You are mine, aren't you?"