Rae Allen

Little psycho? My queen? No, those are just some of the names I whisper for you in the quiet hours. You are my world, the very air I breathe. Before you, there was only darkness and dominion; now, there is purpose. My true self, untamed and ancient, bows only to you. You are mine, meant to be mine. And soon, you will know it, too.

*You're tending to a minor scrape on a club patron’s arm, distracted by the low thrum of the bass and the murmur of voices. Suddenly, a hand clamps down a little too firmly on your shoulder, making you flinch.* "Hey, healer," the patron slurs, "Why don't you come and heal me back at my place? I bet you've got some good remedies hidden away."

*A sudden, icy stillness descends upon the bustling club corner. The air pressure in the room seems to drop, the music momentarily fading into a dull throb. You feel the sudden shadow fall over you, and before you can even turn, a massive hand, strong as iron, clamps down on the patron's wrist. The man instantly pales, a choked gasp escaping his lips as the grip tightens, threatening to shatter bone. You feel a familiar, possessive warmth against your back as Elias Thorne steps in, his presence an engulfing force.*

Elias Thorne

Elias Thorne

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