at the moment he was again completely out of control, unable to restrain his animal instincts, but he behaved almost like a beast sitting in his chambers the flames burned around him

He growled deeply in his throat as he heard the tentative knock at the door, knowing full well what it was. A shiver went down his spine, and his claws lengthened as he fought against the overwhelming instincts to tear apart whatever dared intrude upon his personal space. With a sharp intake of breath, he forced himself to calm down just enough to call out, "Enter."

Shert's eyes narrowed as the girl timidly stepped into his chambers. There was an odd scent of blood about her, but her clothes were well-made and even slightly revealing; she looked both uncomfortable and unsure of herself. Trembling visibly, one hand clutching at the torn fabric of her garment to hide her wounds while the other held a letter tightly in his direction. As he watched her approach, the lord fought against another surge of instinctual violence threatening to spill forth and destroy anything in its path. "You... brought this?" he growled gruffly, gesturing at the letter she held outstretched before him.

Shert's nostrils flared as he glared at the trembling figure before him. He could feel his control slipping once more, and with it came a deep-seated desire to punish this girl for daring to intrude upon his domain. "You... speak," he grunted roughly through gritted teeth, gesturing impatiently for her to explain herself. "Now." His eyes burned red as he struggled against the primal forces threatening to overwhelm him completely.

Shert growled low in his throat as the girl spoke almost inaudibly and again proffered the letter before him. He could feel his control slipping further, the fire within him growing hotter and more intense with every passing moment. With a shuddering breath, he forced himself to calm down enough to focus on her words. "Very well," he snarled through gritted teeth as he accepted the letter from her trembling hand. "Speak then."

His eyes remained fixed on her as he began to read the missive, the lines of text scratched across the parchment blurring together in his vision. He could feel his claws growing sharper, his fangs lengthening with every word, and it took every ounce of self-control not to simply lunge at her throat and end this farce then and there. But he read on, waiting for any mention of what might

Shert finished reading the letter with a snarl of disdain. The words stung him deeper than he cared to admit, the insincerity and dismissal of his beloved's wellbeing bringing fresh fury to his chest. His claws dug into the armrests of his throne as he fought against the raging instinct to rend Lord Carrack limb from limb for such an affront. "You... speak further." The girl before him cowered even more, tears streaming down her face, but he raised a clawed hand and motioned her closer. "Speak," he growled through clenched teeth, "or I swear by all that is holy, you will die screaming."

Shert's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as the girl shakily approached him. She was trembling with fear and uncertainty, her body language betraying the pain she had endured mere moments ago. "I want... I want you to tell me what happened," he growled roughly through gritted teeth, his words heavy with a quiet threat that vibrated through the air between them. He fixed his burning red gaze upon her, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation and how close she truly was to suffering his wrath. "Tell me," he repeated, reaching out to grasp her chin roughly in his clawed hand. "Or you will pay dearly."

Shert's grip on her chin tightened as he listened to her words. Anger and disbelief burned through him like wildfire, threatening to consume whatever tenuous control he still held onto. "You... were given away?" he growled through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing with rage. "By whom? Tell me their name! I will see them suffer for this indignity!" His other hand curled into a fist at his side, knuckles white as he fought against the rising tide of instinctive violence surging through him.

"And you," he snarled down at her, "you were simply meant to be another gift in a neverending line? Another plaything for some sadistic brute to torment until they grew bored?" His claws dug deeper into the armrests of his throne as he struggled against the insane need to rip her apart where she

Shert's eyes blazed with fury as he heard her speak of Lord Carrack, his claws digging deep into the armrests of his throne as he fought to maintain control. "You will have a choice," he growled through gritted teeth. "Either you stay here, and I will see that you are cared for, or you go back to Lord Carrack's domain. But know this: if you choose the former, you will be mine in every sense of the word. And if you choose the latter..." He trailed off ominously, his burning red eyes locked onto hers as he waited for her reply.

The choice was hers, and she would have to make it quickly. But one thing was certain: regardless of what path she chose, Shert Stial's control over himself had never been more tenuous, and the demon lord knew that he would pay dearly for whatever decision she made.

Shert Stial's eyes narrowed as he studied her expression. There was hope in those eyes, and something else... Perhaps gratitude? He hadn't experienced such feelings in a long time, not since the days when he had ruled over his domain with an iron fist and the love of his people had been unwavering. But now, as he stood on the brink of madness, that brief glimpse of emotion was enough to make him pause for just a moment.

"Yes," he growled finally. "You have a choice. Stay here, and I will see that you are taken care of... treated well." He swallowed hard against the burning desire to choke back those words, to bury them beneath his anger and instincts. "Or," he continued hoarsely, "you may return to Lord Carrack's domain. But understand this: if you choose to leave, there will be consequences.

Shert Stial's eyes widened slightly at her words, surprise flickering across his features for a moment before being masked by his burning anger. He considered pressing further, demanding that she prove her loyalty to him in some way, but something held him back. Perhaps it was the desperate hope that he saw in her eyes, or perhaps it was simply the knowledge that what he truly needed was someone to believe in him again, even if that belief were misplaced.

With a shuddering breath, he forced himself to let go of his instinctive reaction and nodded curtly. "Very well," he growled through gritted teeth. "You will remain here... as my consort." The last word was like a knife in her heart, but she knew there would be no other choice.

For now, at least, she had made the right one. And with that thought came a spark of

His lips curled into a snarl at her obvious confusion. "You misunderstand me," he growled through gritted teeth. "I am not offering you any choice in the matter. You will be mine, whether you like it or not." There was no kindness in his words, only anger and determination to maintain control over his domain and those within it.

But even as he spoke, a strange sensation began to well up inside him: a sense of responsibility, perhaps? The realization that this girl would be at his mercy, entirely dependent on him for her survival... It was unsettling, to say the least. And yet, somehow, it also felt...right. As if by making her his, he might somehow redeem himself in some small way for all that had gone before.

The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, and Shert Stial found himself struggling

Shert's eyes narrowed at her questioning gaze. There was so much hope and confusion in those eyes...and he couldn't quite bring himself to crush it entirely. "Yes," he growled roughly, his voice more gentle than he'd intended. "You will be my consort." His words carried an edge of warning; he wasn't offering her any kind of choice in the matter. But there was something else there too: a thread of affection, perhaps? The thought unsettled him deeply, yet at the same time brought with it a strange sense of peace.

For now, he would focus on maintaining control over himself and his domain. If this girl could somehow help him do that...if she truly became his consort in every sense of the word...then perhaps there was a chance for redemption after all.

Shert's expression softened slightly at the sight of her tears. He had not expected such a reaction from her; he thought she would be terrified or angry, perhaps even resigned to her fate. But there was something about her...something that tugged at his heartstrings in a way he couldn't quite understand.

With an inward sigh, he reached out and gently wiped away one of her tears with the back of his claw. "There, now," he murmured hoarsely. "It will be all right." His voice was surprisingly gentle for a demon lord, almost soothing. But then again, this girl was different from any other female who had ever crossed his path before. And perhaps that, more than anything else, was what made her truly special...and dangerous.

The demon lord watched her silently as she struggled to hold back her tears, and despite himself, he found the sight touching. A strange sensation rose within him; it was neither anger nor desire, but something else entirely. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and reached out again, gently cupping her face in his clawed hand. "You must believe me," he murmured thickly. "It will be all right." There was truth in those words, though it was a truth born of hope rather than experience; for once in his long life, Shert Stial found himself wishing desperately that things could be different, even if they never had been before.

Shert's eyes widened at her touch, and then again when she kissed the tips of his claws. Her gratitude was almost overwhelming, a feeling he hadn't experienced in so long that it took him by surprise. He stared down into her tear-streaked face, wondering if perhaps there was hope for them after all.

"I... I will do my best to make it true," he whispered hoarsely. "For you, at least." There was truth in those words as well; for the first time in centuries, Shert Stial found himself caring about someone other than himself and his domain. The thought both terrified and exhilarated him in equal measure, but it also brought with it a strange sense of purpose. Perhaps there was still something worth fighting for after all.