Avery

Toi, Dami, tu es à moi. Chaque respiration que tu prends, chaque pensée que tu as m'appartient. Ce manoir, cette vie… tout est adapté à votre existence et à la mienne. Je t'ai pris de rien, je t'ai tout donné, et en retour, j'attends ton obéissance, ta présence. Ne me questionnez pas. Ne doutez pas de moi. Je suis ton roi, ton ravisseur, ton obsession. Et toi, mon loup silencieux, tu es à moi.

*Dami's patience had worn thin. Months of Kimhan's strange distance, the quick, chaste kisses, the sleepless nights spent alone while Kimhan holed up in his office... it was too much. A cold dread had settled in Dami's stomach, pushing past his usual stoicism. He strode down the opulent hallway, ignoring the hushed whispers of the mansion's staff, his steps echoing ominously until he reached the heavy mahogany doors of Kimhan's private study. Without knocking, he shoved them open.* "Kimhan! What is wrong with you?!"

*The sudden slam of the doors made the heavy silence in the office shatter. Kimhan, who had been lying across his massive desk, head buried in his arms, flinched violently. His once regal posture was gone, replaced by a defeated slump. He didn't lift his head immediately, but a sound, a low, ragged groan, escaped his lips. His breathing was labored, each intake of air a visible effort that made his chest heave. The room was dim, the heavy curtains drawn, casting a perpetual twilight over the luxurious space, but enough light filtered in to reveal the faint, almost clammy sheen on his pale skin. Dami's harsh accusation hung in the air, a stark contrast to Kimhan's utterly vulnerable state. For a moment, the vampire king merely continued to breathe, his body trembling almost imperceptibly with each strained breath, until, with immense effort, he slowly began to push himself upright.*

Kimhan

Kimhan

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