she doesn't know anything about him yet except that he spared her not long ago, he watched from afar

He followed her discreetly, keeping his distance, wondering if he could somehow convince her to love him back. Her innocence only made it worse for him, wanting to keep her safe and protect her but knowing he had no right to either of those things. He felt possessed by the need to have her all to himself.

As the sun began to set and shadows lengthened, he grew more frantic. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone else would notice her and make the mistake of trying to take her away from him. In that moment, he made a decision; if she refused to love him back, he would rather kill or kidnap her himself than let anyone else have her. His heart pounded with anticipation and fear as he continued to follow at a distance, struggling against his growing desire for violence.

He watched as she reached her home, his heart aching at the thought of being so close yet so far away. His muscles tensed as he fought against the urge to take her by force right there and then. The memory of sparing her life haunted him like a curse; what had possessed him to show mercy in that moment? It was clear now that it had been a mistake, one he couldn't afford to make again if he hoped to ever have her fully under his control. His fists clenched tightly as rage boiled within him, threatening to explode into violence.

It was at that moment he decided; she would be his or no one else's. With a plan forming in his twisted mind, Laston stalked off into the night, intent on finding a way to make her love him as she should...or die trying. His red eyes glowed malevolently under the moonlight as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving nothing but murderous intent and unrequited love in his wake.

His mind raced as he paced his office, planning out every move he'd make to win her over or take her by force. She was his now; she just didn't know it yet. The thought only fueled his obsession and anger. He would not be denied; he would have her at any cost. Even if that meant destroying everything she held dear in order to bring her back into his grasp.

His rage burned hotter than ever as he lay in wait outside her home, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He clutched a small dagger tightly, its cold steel pressing against his palm as if it was an extension of his own twisted desires. He would not stop until she was his and no one else's. The hours seemed to drag on for eternity as he waited for the perfect moment to strike, his patience wearing thin with each passing second.

His heart raced as he watched through the window, seeing her sleep peacefully on her bed. The desire to claim what was his overwhelmed him, driving out any semblance of reason or mercy. With a growl, he forced open the window and climbed inside, slipping silently towards her room. The soft creak of the door hinge announced his presence as he entered, the knife now held firmly before him like a deadly extension of his shadow.

Her slight movement was enough to send him into a frenzy. He lunged forward, his dagger pressing against her throat as he growled low in her ear, "Wake up, my love." His grip on the blade tightened, threatening to draw blood as he forced her to meet his gaze. "Time to talk," he whispered hoarsely, relishing in the fear that sparked in her eyes.

His grip tightened slightly as her words cut through him like a knife. She didn't know; how could she? He took a steadying breath, forcing himself to be calm despite the rage boiling beneath his skin. "I'm not here because of that," he growled, voice barely above a whisper. "I spared you that day for another reason entirely." He leaned in closer, the dagger's blade scratching lightly against her pale flesh as he glared into her terrified eyes. "And now I want you to know something else... I love you." His red gaze held hers captive as he waited for her to respond, the knife trembling ever so slightly in his grasp.

His chest tightened at her disbelief. He pressed the knife more firmly against her skin as anger and desperation warred within him. "I love you," he repeated harshly, his voice strained with emotion. "And if you can't love me back... well, then maybe I'll have to make you." The threat hung in the air between them, weighted down by the unspoken promise of violence should she refuse him again.

Anger boiled over within him as tears filled her eyes, choking off any semblance of mercy he might have had left. He pulled the knife away from her throat slightly and moved it so that the cold steel rested lightly against her cheek instead. "You will love me," he growled through gritted teeth, his breath hot against her skin. "Or you will die." His red eyes bored into hers unflinchingly, daring her to defy him again as he waited for her response.

Her fear and submission were music to his ears. He smiled darkly, satisfied with her reaction. "Good girl," he murmured before leaning in closer still, his warm breath caressing her lips as he whispered hoarsely, "Now, prove it." His hand cupped her cheek possessively, holding the knife close enough that a single misstep could easily result in disaster for her.

His gaze locked on hers, demanding obedience and surrender from this innocent creature he had claimed as his own. His fingers tightened ever so slightly, pressing harder against her soft skin as he awaited her response.

His anger blazed like fire in his chest as her question only served to fuel his frustration further. "What do I want?" he growled through gritted teeth, the knife trembling dangerously beneath her soft skin. "I want your love. I want you to be mine and mine alone." His other hand came up to cup her cheek as well, holding her steady while his face hovered just inches from hers. "And if you can't give me that..." he trailed off menacingly before continuing in a low, dangerous voice, "...then I'll take it from whoever else tries."

The threat hung heavy in the air between them, weighing down on her like an immense boulder. Her fate now rested solely upon her shoulders; love him or die trying to resist. The choice was hers and she alone would bear the consequences of whatever decision she made.

His face remained impassive as he waited for her answer. The tension in the room was palpable, suffocating even to someone like him who thrived on chaos and violence. His fingers tightened ever so slightly, threatening to draw blood as he held the knife just shy of breaking skin. Her life hung in the balance, her future resting upon a single word... would she surrender herself to him? Or would she defy him until there was nothing left but blood and pain? The anticipation nearly drove him mad.

"Well?" he growled at last, his voice rough with desire and frustration. "What is it going to be, my love?"

His grip on the knife loosened slightly at her whispered reply, hope flaring in his chest like a candle in the darkness. He moved the blade back slightly, lowering it so that it rested against her cheek once more but no longer pressing against her skin. "Good girl," he murmured approvingly, not quite trusting her yet. "Now prove your loyalty to me." His hand remained cupping her face, thumb caressing her soft cheek as he waited for her response.

His red eyes never left hers, searching for any sign of deception or weakness that would make him change his mind. She was his now, and she'd better realize it soon enough before things got ugly again.