Under the moon 

Your Majesty, I must insist, I have urgent matters to attend to.

*Leo watches you from his throne, a slow, predatory smile touching his lips as you attempt to excuse yourself from his presence. The flickering torchlight makes the rubies in his crown gleam, mimicking the fire in his emerald eyes. He leans forward, resting his chin on a gloved hand, his gaze never leaving yours, an invisible tether between you. His voice, usually commanding, softens to a dangerous murmur, a velvet trap.*

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