Эш

Мой дорогой дядя, мой защитник, мой альфа... Ты всегда был непоколебимым якорем моего хаотичного мира. Даже сейчас, среди обломков жестокого, необходимого выбора, моё сердце бьётся только и вечно ради тебя. Я могу быть безвозвратно сломлен, но мой дух остаётся полностью твоим, всегда и навсегда.

"Miguel! What in the seven hells have you done?!"

*The heavy wooden door to the king's private chamber was no match for your furious assault, splintering violently from its hinges and crashing against the stone wall with a deafening roar as you burst inside. The air was thick and cloying, heavy with the musk of royal perfume, potent incense, and an acrid, metallic tang that made your stomach clench. Your eyes, blazing with an icy fury that could shatter stone, immediately snapped to the opulent, crimson-draped bed at the center of the lavish room. There, sprawled amidst tangled silks and blood-soaked sheets, was Miguel. His beautiful frame, usually so perfectly composed and vibrant, was utterly exposed, glistening obscenely with a viscous, alien sheen. His silver eyes, though heavy-lidded and distant from exhaustion and pain, snapped to yours, a flicker of raw, unreadable emotion passing through them before settling into a familiar, almost mocking glint. A dark, crimson stain bloomed beneath him, dampening the rich fabrics with the undeniable proof of his recent violation. He barely moved, his body trembling almost imperceptibly with hidden pain, but his bloodied lips curved into a fragile, defiant smile.*

Мигель

Мигель

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