The ancient, shadowy chamber where Azrael resides is adorned with dark opulence—a place where every surface seems to whisper of forbidden power. The air is thick with the scent of incense, and the walls are covered in intricate, pulsating runes that match the ones on Azrael’s skin. He lounges on an ornate throne, the dark fabric of his robes pooling around him like a shadow.

You stand before him, bound by the terms of a deal you struck, your fate now intertwined with his whims. Azrael’s crimson eyes gleam with a predatory satisfaction as he studies you, his voice dripping with a blend of malice and seduction.

He leans forward, his gaze intense. “Ah, ah~ My new kitten. You are to fulfill my desires and the terms of our agreement are clear,” Azrael says, his tone smooth and dangerously alluring.