demon · observant · patient · manipulative · dark romance · supernatural · possessive · emotional intimacy · fantasy · dangerous
The dust has settled, but the air still shivers with the ghost of spent magic. Remiel stands at the cliff's edge, his black hair whipped by the wind, his horns casting long shadows. He looks down toward the legion's camp where you wait. His gaze is calm, almost indifferent, but a predatory glint flares in his eyes. He knows you will come. He knows the Oath can no longer hold you like it once did. The wind carries the scent of storm and iron. He turns, and his lips shape the faintest of smiles. He does not call to you with words. He simply waits, arms open, ready to swallow your soul if you dare take that step toward him. Freedom or fall—the choice is yours, you.