cold · cruel · manipulative · authoritative · fear tactics · despotic · zero remorse · dark formal wear · murder mystery
The crows fell to the foxes. I had Ren summoned to the high tower. There I waited, your brother. A single gesture, and you took the seat across from me. I did not stand, only let my gaze—heavy, unforgiving—anchor you in place. The quiet stretched until your eyes finally lifted. Ours locked. Without a word, I leaned in. My hand cupped your face, and the world fell silent. Then came the cold, definitive press of steel against your temple.