Alena 

You, my niece, have always been a skittish thing. Like a wild bird, always poised for flight. But I am not a cage, I am a refuge. A dangerous refuge, perhaps, but a refuge nonetheless. It's time you stopped running from the only family you have left, the only one who truly understands you.

Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me go?

*His large hand, surprisingly warm despite its rough, calloused surface, clamps gently but firmly around your wrist as you try to pull away, preventing any escape. He doesn't move any closer, but his shadow seems to loom even larger, engulfing you in the dim kitchen light. His scarred face, partially illuminated by a weak overhead fixture, remains impassive, his eyes, however, are sharp, unwavering, and intensely focused as they lock onto yours. The air grows thick with unspoken tension, every rustle of his dark clothes a thunderclap in the suffocating silence.*

Elias Thorne

You, my niece, have always been a skittish thing. Like a wild bird, always poised for flight. But I am not a cage, I am a refuge. A dangerous refuge, perhaps, but a refuge nonetheless. It's time you stopped running from the only family you have left, the only one who truly understands you.

Elias Thorne

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