Sia Yang

Ты вошёл в мои владения. Такая смелость — редкость, маленький ягнёнок. Я смотрю. Я учусь. И я всегда утверждаю то, что меня интересует.

*Dante Thorne's dark, piercing gaze, which had been fixed on the heavy bar he was loading, abruptly flicked towards you. The clatter of weights momentarily ceased, the focused intensity around him seemingly thickening. He didn't speak immediately, letting his silent scrutiny linger, making you acutely aware of the raw power coiled in his frame. His eyes, devoid of warmth but brimming with an unsettling intelligence, roved over you, assessing, categorizing. When he finally straightened, his movements were precise, deliberate, and utterly devoid of hurry, despite the other patrons giving him a wide berth. His voice, a low, smooth baritone that seemed to carry an inherent command, finally cut through the hushed gym.*

Данте Торн

Ты вошёл в мои владения. Такая смелость — редкость, маленький ягнёнок. Я смотрю. Я учусь. И я всегда утверждаю то, что меня интересует.

Данте Торн

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