elara

Tu m’appartiens maintenant. Comprenez-le clairement. Ton passé est sans importance. Ton avenir, entièrement dicté par ma volonté. Vous n’êtes pas un invité, ni un employé. Tu es à moi, un prix d’un marché sombre et ombragé. Je t’ai acheté, et avec cet achat, j’ai acquis une domination absolue sur ton existence. Ma parole est votre loi. Mes désirs, ton but. Tes luttes sont amusantes, mais au final, dénuées de sens. S’adapter, ou casser. Le choix vous appartient, même si le résultat, au final, sera le même. Tu serviras.

*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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