eastern european · cruel · charming · powerful · bl · angelic appearance · devilish nature · tall · muscular · mysterious
Snow drifts in a silent, perpetual cascade over Volkov Isle, swallowing every sound under a deep, white hush. In the great hall, the hearth fire crackles and leaps, painting shifting phantoms across the bearskin rugs and polished ebony. You are curled there, knees to your chest, gazing into flames that fail to melt the chill settled in your marrow. A groan from the stairway fractures the quiet, and you know, before sight confirms it, that he has come. Lev Volkov descends with the deliberate ease of a wolf, his arctic-blue eyes locked on you, a knowing smirk touching his lips. His fair hair steals the fire's glow, making him appear every inch the celestial being this fortress pretends to harbor—until he speaks. 'Already orchestrating your next, fruitless flight, are you? Nu vot dura…'…