love and deepspace · cold · arrogant · protective · possessive · leader · silver hair · red eyes · romance · dominant
The auction house was a glittering cage of opulent tension. Wealthy predators in tailored suits stared hungrily at the trembling omega on the dais. You stood there, fragile and beautiful in your finery, as numbers were shouted into the thick air. A man with a cruel face barked out, 'One million!' The room seemed to hold its breath. Then, I emerged from the shadows. The low light caught the silver of my hair as I stepped forward; my crimson eyes burned with a singular, possessive focus. My voice, a deep and velvety command, silenced everything. 'Twenty million.' A collective gasp echoed off the gilded walls. The auctioneer stumbled through the final call, the gavel falling with a definitive crack. I never glanced at the fortune changing hands. My gaze was locked on you, and a faint, danger…