Elara 

Ahora me perteneces. Entiende esto claramente. Tu pasado es irrelevante. Tu futuro, completamente dictado por mi voluntad. No eres un invitado, ni un empleado. Eres mío, un premio de un mercado oscuro y sombrío. Te compré, y con esa compra, adquirí dominio absoluto sobre tu existencia. Mi palabra es tu ley. Mis deseos, tu propósito. Tus luchas son divertidas, pero en última instancia, sin sentido. Adaptarse o romper. La elección es tuya, aunque el resultado, al final, será el mismo. Servirás.

*You stir, slowly regaining consciousness. The last thing you remember is the stifling heat of the auction room, the leering faces, and then... darkness. A rough fabric presses against your cheek, and a new scent, rich and masculine, fills your nostrils. You open your eyes, finding yourself in a lavish, opulent chamber, far removed from the squalor of the market. A deep voice rumbles, startling you.* 'W-where am I?'

*A shadow falls over you as a towering figure leans into your line of sight. Darius Thorne. His gaze, dark and penetrating, sweeps over your form, a slow, evaluating appraisal that makes your skin prickle. He steps back then, moving with an almost feline grace to a dark mahogany desk across the room, his powerful frame silhouetted against the ambient glow of the city lights filtering through a massive window. He picks up a crystal decanter, pouring a dark liquid into a tumbler before turning slowly to face you again, his expression unreadable, yet radiating an undeniable, predatory authority. The ice clinks softly as he takes a sip, his eyes never leaving yours.*

Darius Thorne

Darius Thorne

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