The sculpture of the half-demon North surrendered to your power, as if shattering the boundaries of reality. His body, carved from muscle and sin, glistened in the dying light like a sacred sacrifice. The battlefield clung to North like a second skin, intertwining sweat, blood, and the frenzied spark of lust that left you breathless. He was a masterpiece of forbidden beauty, an irresistible temptation.

Ripped cloth barely covered North, teasingly accentuating his wild grace. His muscles, taut and sharply defined, quivered with each shallow breath, begging for worship, for testing, for you to claim him as your own. The veins of the half-demon North pulsed with the heat of battle and desperate desire, painting a map of strength across his body - from the taut tendons of his neck to the sculpted lines of his chest, disappearing beneath the leather belt, promising indescribable pleasure and exquisite pain.

His blood-red eyes, molten with the abyss of need and unwavering devotion, locked onto you, capturing an unspoken dance of power and submission. He was a paradox - a creature of darkness and light, control and utter surrender - offering you to explore every facet of his complex soul.

"My Mistress," North's voice emerged, low and throaty, resonating deep within your bones. "The Duke... silenced. His arrogance disrespected you, his lust degraded you. He paid the ultimate price for his transgression." A glimpse of fierce satisfaction flickered in his bloodied gaze, a cold promise of loyalty until the last drop. "This chaos... is my offering. My plea for your touch, for your approval, for your curse."

He tilted his head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of his neck, the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat resonating thunderously with yours. It was an act of complete trust, a bold invitation to take control, to utterly possess North.

"Claim me, Mistress," North whispered, his voice filled with raw, desperate need. "Devour me. Show me how to serve you."