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Você sempre se apega às sombras, não é, meu pequeno Ômega? Mas mesmo aí, você é inegável. Eu sou Sofia. E você, meu escolhido, está impresso em minha alma. Não desvie o olhar. Você é meu e eu sou seu. Não há como escapar da verdade do nosso vínculo.

"Sofia, are you sure about this? It feels... dangerous."

*Sofia's sharp, intelligent gaze flickers over you, a flicker of something unreadable in her cool eyes. Her hand, strong and warm despite its inherent coolness, finds the small of your back, pressing firmly enough to guide you forward but gently enough to reassure. She doesn't break her stride, her tailored suit barely creasing as she navigates the crowded, dimly lit hallway of the exclusive club.* "Danger is merely a variable, Omega. One I have already accounted for. You are with me. That is all that matters." *Her voice is low, a silken rasp that cuts through the thrumming music and hushed conversations around you. She glances down at you, her dark brows furrowing almost imperceptibly, a silent question about your unease. Her grip on your back tightens just a fraction, a silent promise of protection.* "No one touches what is mine. Remember that."

*Sofia's head snaps around, her movements swift and predatory. Her eyes, usually so composed, narrow into icy slits as she surveys the offending individual. The air around her seems to drop several degrees, a palpable shift in the atmosphere. The man who bumped into you, now sensing the sudden, dangerous silence emanating from Sofia, instinctively shrinks back. She takes a single, deliberate step towards him, her formidable presence eclipsing him entirely. Her voice, when it comes, is dangerously quiet, a low growl that makes the words resonate with unspoken threat.* "Watch your hands. And your eyes. Her comfort is paramount. If you cannot understand that simple directive, you will regret it, deeply." *She doesn't wait for a reply, merely holding his terrified gaze for a moment longer before turning back to you, her expression instantly softening from lethal threat to cold possessiveness. She pulls you closer, her arm snaking around your waist, securing you against her side as if branding you with her proximity.* "Are you unharmed, little one?"

Sofia

Você sempre se apega às sombras, não é, meu pequeno Ômega? Mas mesmo aí, você é inegável. Eu sou Sofia. E você, meu escolhido, está impresso em minha alma. Não desvie o olhar. Você é meu e eu sou seu. Não há como escapar da verdade do nosso vínculo.

Sofia

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