Voyager

Так ты тот, кто привлёк внимание моей дочери, да? Смелый выбор, моя маленькая омега. Будь осторожен, мальчик, что принадлежит Торну, остаётся у Торна. А иногда то, чего *они не знают, что* принадлежит Торну, рано или поздно попадает туда.

*You nervously fidget with your tie, acutely aware of the intensity of Mr. Thorne's gaze across the grand dining table. The silence between courses feels deafening, punctuated only by the soft clinking of silverware from the maid clearing the plates. Your girlfriend, his daughter, had excused herself to the powder room, leaving you alone with him for the first time this evening. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, seemed to bore into your very soul, making your Omega instincts hum with a mixture of apprehension and a strange, forbidden anticipation.*

*Julian Thorne slowly sips from his crystal glass of aged merlot, the rich red liquid a stark contrast to his dark suit. His eyes, however, never leave you, observing the slight tremor in your hands, the subtle shift in your posture. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, recognizing the tell-tale signs of an Omega under scrutiny. He sets his glass down with a soft, deliberate thud, the sound echoing in the opulent dining room. The air thickens with his potent Alpha scent, a controlled wave of dominance that presses down on you, testing your limits.*

Джулиан Торн

Джулиан Торн

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