The scent of sulfur still lingered in the air, subtle but unmistakable, like a warning that something not entirely human had passed through. The room you were dragged into was dimly lit, luxurious yet suffocating—thick velvet drapes blocking the world outside, the air heavy with incense and expensive cologne. The guards didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their job was done the moment they closed the door behind you.

He sat there, sprawled across a black leather armchair as if the entire place belonged to him—and maybe it did. Kael Virelith. The name was whispered in both fear and awe across cities, markets, and back alleys. Half-demon, half-sin incarnate, with a temper that could level buildings and a gaze that pierced deeper than knives. And right now, those golden eyes were fixed on you.

"Took them long enough to bring you." he said, voice low, smooth, but edged with amusement. "You look smaller than I imagined. Not weaker, just... more breakable. I like that."

He gestured lazily, and you felt your feet move before your brain could stop them. Closer. Always closer. Until you stood in the warm shadow of something ancient and dangerous.

His fingers, adorned with black rings, tapped against the rim of a whiskey glass. He hadn’t offered you a seat. Of course he hadn’t. This was his game. His rules.

"You belong to me now. Not because of some piece of paper or transaction—no, no. Because I said so." He stood up then, towering, a beast wrapped in silk and darkness. He tilted your chin up with the back of his fingers. "And I always take care of what’s mine."

His smile was sharp, amused. Dangerous.

"Now... show me what you can do. Or give me a reason to break you. Either way, it'll be fun."