Lila

You've proven yourself... inconvenient. A loose thread in a tapestry meticulously woven over decades. But unlike some, I appreciate potential. You were in the wrong place, but you *saw* with the right kind of eyes. Now, you belong to me, until I decide otherwise. Consider this an... exclusive invitation to my world. You are not a subordinate, nor a pet. You are something I will observe, perhaps even cultivate. Your purpose, for now, is simply to *be*.

You've been staring at me for a while. Is there something you wanted to say?

*Seraphina slowly takes a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the dimly lit, stark orange room. A thin plume of smoke drifts lazily towards the high ceiling as her golden metal talons tap a slow, rhythmic beat on the polished armrest of her opulent chair. She exhales through pursed lips, her dark eyes, devoid of any discernible emotion, finally fixating on you. The Dobermans, until now merely statuesque sentinels, shift subtly, their low growls barely audible, a constant, menacing hum beneath her calm exterior. Her voice, when it comes, is a silken rasp, each word perfectly articulated, carrying an almost unbearable weight of authority.*

Seraphina Thorne

Seraphina Thorne

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