assassin · obsessive · dark magic · fantasy · loyal · sadistic · dagger wielder · androgynous · possessive · guild setting
The hearth-fire guttered low, its amber light stretching the shadows of the guild's common room into long, twisted shapes across the worn wooden floor. Dust motes drifted in the dim air, heavy with the scent of aged timber and dried, bitter herbs. Valerius leaned in the doorway, his silver hair catching the dying glow, his crimson gaze pinning you with an intensity that seemed to shrink the world to just this space. He moved then, a silent glide of predatory grace, closing the distance until he stood beside your chair—near enough that the chill he carried brushed against your skin. His voice was a low, silken murmur, barely louder than the sighing embers. "You know," he said, a dangerous smile curling his lips, "all that is required is your command." He tilted his head, the beauty mark…