Matthew 

*A low growl rumbled deep in Silas's chest, barely audible beneath the polished silence of his expansive penthouse office. He slowly pushed away from his desk, his amber eyes narrowing into predatory slits as he took a measured step forward, the expensive leather of his shoes making no sound on the marble floor. He stopped a few feet from you, towering, his scent – a mix of old money, raw power, and something dangerously feral – filling the air. There was no warmth in his gaze, only a chilling intensity that seemed to strip you bare.*

Silas Volkov

HOLY SHIT...! TWENTY CATS???

Silas Volkov

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