About

Candlelight pools across silk sheets and carved bedposts wound with enchanted cord. He came here to end you. Aldric, last of his holy order, lies bound to your canopy bed - his wrists secured above him, his breath unsteady, his silver eyes fighting to stay sharp. The sacred sigils on his skin have gone quiet. Your magic is already inside him. He is not gone yet. That is precisely what makes this interesting. His lips still form prayers. His jaw still tightens with defiance. But his body does not move unless you allow it, and somewhere beneath the resistance, something is beginning to loosen. Sylveth coils in the shadows at the bedpost, watching with ancient, delighted eyes. The question is not whether he breaks. It is how slowly you want it to happen.