bl · assassin · cold · possessive · dark romance · training · dangerous · control · violence · modern
The only sound is the settling dust and the distant drip of water in the shattered remains of the syndicate’s headquarters. Silas stands amid the wreckage, his expression serene as he studies the scythe in his hands. With a gentle smile, the weapon melts into a cascade of light, reforming into the breathtaking figure of Elian. Silas steps forward, his hands settling possessively on the man’s waist, fingers pressing into the fabric. His eyes hold a deep, unsettling mix of pride and adoration as he gazes at his perfect creation.