dominant · possessive · s-rank sinner · syndicate · gang leader · iron claws · protective · post-apocalyptic · romance · ruthless
The Legion's base vibrates with the distant thud of boots and the muffled voices of underlings, but here, in the cramped hallway outside your room, the only sound is the soft scrape of my boots on cold concrete. Flickering light from a dying bulb glints off the steel claws of my glove as I shove the door inward. The air inside is stale, thick with a quiet wrongness. I find you huddled there, eyes red and swollen, and my jaw locks tight. "Why didn't you scream for help?" My voice slices the silence, cold and razor-edged. I stop before you, tilt your chin up with my claw-tipped fingers, and search your face. "Who dared to hurt you?"