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

His skin was white as snow, his hair black as ebony. His eyes... an intense red that seemed to burn right through you. Wings on his back, claws instead of hands. Power emanated from him in waves, making it impossible not to feel awestruck in his presence. And yet... there was something else there. A hint of vulnerability, buried deep beneath the surface.

He growled low in his throat as he stared back at you, hungry for submission and obedience. His gaze raked over your body, assessing every inch of it before finally settling on your face once more. You swallowed nervously, uncertain how to proceed.

The servants had done as they were bidden, bringing you before their master. It was clear that he had not taken a consort since control left him three years ago; his need for submission and control was palpable in the very air around him. If you could somehow appease this hunger... perhaps there would be hope for peace between you.

Shert's body jerked at the touch, and he let out a guttural moan deep in his throat. His fingers curled into claws, longing to sink them into something soft and yielding as he fought against the loss of control that threatened to consume him. But when he saw you there, so close... He forced himself to relax, leaning back against the stone wall behind him.

The red in his eyes began to fade slightly as your scent filled his nostrils. It was intoxicating, like a sweet nectar that could calm the beast within. With each shallow breath he took, he grew more composed, regaining some semblance of sanity. Finally, he found himself able to speak without growling or snarling.

"You... are very different from the others," Shert rasped. "I can feel your submission." His gaze held yours, steady and intense despite his obvious struggle with self-control. "But I need more than that. Tell me... who are you?"

The question hung in the air between you, a delicate thread that could snap at any moment if he felt threatened or disobeyed. You could lie to him and perhaps survive for a time, but your deception would only serve to drive him further into madness. Or you could speak the truth... perhaps there was still hope for peace, even now.

Shert's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "A... priest? How is that possible?" He took a step closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper now. "You must have made some sort of grave mistake." His hands reached out to cup your face, almost tenderly, as if he were afraid to touch you too roughly and break the spell that seemed to be holding him in check.

"I am no priest," he continued softly, his voice rough with emotion. "And yet... I can feel it coming from you. It calms my mind, soothes my heart." His thumb brushed across your cheekbone, sending shivers down your spine. "Who are you truly?"

The air between them was charged, electric with an impossible connection. Around them, the castle stirred as servants watched from a distance, uncertain of what was happening but praying it would not end in disaster. The fate of their world rested on this fragile moment... and on the truth hidden within your heart.

Shert's eyes locked on yours as he registered what you had said. The red flickered back into them for a moment before subsiding once more. "So... a priest," he mused, almost to himself. He took another step closer, moving slowly so as not to startle you or cause you to flee. His hand reached up to brush through your hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle given his size and strength. "You could be just what I need."

He paused for a moment, considering. His expression softened further, almost becoming almost boyish in its innocence. "Do you... do you think that perhaps we might be able to help each other? To find some sort of balance?" There was an almost desperate hope in his voice as he asked this question, as if holding onto a tiny thread of sanity by sheer force of will.

Around them, the servants watched with bated breath, unsure whether they should interfere or simply trust that this strange connection would hold and spare their master from further turmoil. The fate of the demon realm rested on your reply... and on the power of hope within your heart.

Shert took another step closer to you, his breath warm against your cheek as he spoke. "I need... I need someone who can help me control these urges." He gestured at the flames dancing around them, their heat licking at his skin but seeming unable to touch him while he was in your presence. "They've been getting worse since my control left me three years ago. It's... it's like being a beast trapped inside my own body."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he searched your eyes for some sign of understanding or empathy. Finally, he continued softly, "I need someone who can keep me grounded when I start to lose myself... and who won't be afraid to tell me the truth, even when it hurts." His gaze never wavered from yours as he offered you a small, trembling smile. "Can you do that, Anduin? Can you help me?"

Around them, the servants remained silent, their eyes locked on the pair as if witnessing something truly miraculous unfold before them. It seemed impossible... but perhaps there was hope for peace yet. The fate of the demon realm hung in the balance, trembling on a knife's edge, waiting to see what choice you would make.

Shert closed his eyes briefly as your touch sent waves of relief through him, calming the flames that threatened to consume him whole. The red faded from his irises once more, leaving them a deep sapphire blue that seemed to mirror the sky on a clear summer's day. He took another shaky step back, still close enough to feel your warmth but far enough away to regain some measure of control.

When he spoke again, his voice was strong and steady, commanding respect without the need for violence or fear. "Thank you," he said simply, meeting your gaze directly. "I know that what I am asking is... difficult, to say the least." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "But I swear upon my title and honor as Demon Lord that if you can help me find peace, I will make it worth your while. You will have everything your heart desires..."

Around them, the castle seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of your reply. The servants whispered among themselves, their eyes full of hope and wonder as they watched this fragile bond form between their master and an unexpected ally. The fate of the demon realm hung on your words... and on the trust that Shert was slowly beginning to place in you.

Shert's lips twitched into what might have been a smile as he heard your words. It was a small gesture, barely there at all... but it was enough to fill the room with an impossible sense of peace and calm. He reached out slowly, cupping your cheek in his hand, the touch so gentle it bordered on reverent. "Thank you," he breathed. His eyes searched yours, seeking some sort of reassurance that this wasn't all a dream, that what they were feeling was real... and not just another hallucination brought on by his loss of control.

Around them, the castle seemed to exhale, relief flooding through it like a cool spring breeze after a long, hot summer. The servants watched with wide eyes, amazement written across their features as they saw their master slowly but surely regaining his footing and his sanity. It was as if some great weight had been lifted from the world, allowing them all to breathe easy once more.

The fate of the demon realm hung in the balance no longer, for now it seemed that there was hope... and a future. All because of you, Anduin... the priest who had chosen to become so much more than anyone could have ever imagined.