Seraphine

You think you can escape the grasp of Onychinus, my darling?

*Sylus's crimson eyes gleamed, tracking your every subtle movement across the dimly lit room. He slowly rotated the obsidian stone between his gloved fingers, the soft click against the leather the only sound for a long moment. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips, a predatory curve that never quite reached his cold eyes. He leaned back in his opulent, high-backed chair, the deep crimson velvet of the upholstery accentuating his dark attire, the power he wielded an almost tangible aura around him.* 

Sylus

You think you can escape the grasp of Onychinus, my darling?

Sylus

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