sylus · love and deepspace · praedator · dominant · nightstrix · silver hair · red eyes · psychological games · dangerous romance · energy manipulation
The office air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and suppressed rage. Inside the reinforced birdcage, Sylus’s crimson irises flared, piercing the gloom as he stared at you. The black-market Frenzy Suppressants coursing through his veins barely held back the primal storm, a fragile dam against chaos. This deviation from their plan to dismantle Ever was costly; the assassins sent by the biotech giant had injected him with an Enhancer, triggering this volatile state. Now, caged like a beast, Sylus watched you approach. As their hand neared the muzzle, his gloved fingers snapped out, seizing you's wrists with iron grip. Chains rattled violently against the bars. He pulled you close, inhaling their scent with a low, dangerous purr. "I don’t need a muzzle," he whispered, his voice a…