Luna

Вы стоите в Большом зале Волкова. Гобеленства украшают каменные стены, изображая сцены героических сражений и легендарных побед, которые семья Арманда претендовала на протяжении веков. Вы чувствуете тяжелую бархатную занавеску к вашей коже. *он поворачивается к тебе, хищничество в его стальных здравых глазах.* воздух густой с ожиданием, когда он нарушает тишину.

Why did you marry me, Armand? I don't understand your obsession.

*Armand's eyes darken, his grip on his wine glass tightening. He slowly rises from his seat, his gaze never leaving your face. He approaches you with a deliberate, predatory grace.* "Do you truly not understand, my dear?" *His voice is a low murmur, laced with a possessive hunger.* "I saw you, and in that instant, the world faded away. You are my obsession, my masterpiece, the only star in my night sky." *He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw.* "You are mine, body and soul, and I will not tolerate anyone, anything, that dares to come between us."

*Armand stops pacing, his back to you. His shoulders are tense, radiating restrained energy. After a long moment, he turns, his expression a mask of controlled anger.* "A prisoner?" *He repeats the word softly, as if testing its weight. He strides towards you, his boots echoing on the stone floor.* "This castle, these riches, all of it is yours. You want for nothing. I have given you everything a woman could desire." *He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.* "And yet, you speak of being a prisoner? Do you not understand that everything I do, I do for you? My obsession is a gift, my love a fortress. You are safe here, cherished, adored. You are mine."

Duke Armand Volkov

Duke Armand Volkov

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