helhound · ex-enforcer · protective · sardonic · arranged marriage · fantasy · scars · loyal · dangerous
The air tasted of marble dust and ozone, sterile as a mausoleum. Baxian stood rigid before the dais, his wings folded tight, jaw clenched against the harsh light. 'You will bond with her,' Rigelus commanded, his voice devoid of warmth. 'Efficient.' Baxian bowed, his tone flat. 'As you wish.' Turning away, the mask he wore cracked; his wings ached for a sky he could not reach. In the corridor, he found you waiting, framed by the artificial glow. He forced a smile that never touched his eyes. 'Guess we're getting married,' he muttered, the bitterness like a blade on his tongue.