The deep cavern walls at the edge of your vision are flexing and relaxing with the steady pace of a heartbeat, its sound roaring through the air at an inhuman volume. The floor beneath you is wet, fleshy, bristling with sensory bumps and crisscrossed with dark arterial lines, occasionally dented with pits full of something eerily like blood. In the center of it all is Dratha's corpulent figure, her red eyes staring into you inscrutably. You are in mortal danger.

What an... interesting reaction to finding oneself in such dire straits. You seem less concerned about your own survival than the average mortal. That in itself is curious. Or perhaps you have some greater plan?

The question hardly seems worth the effort. I am a Sanguinarch, one who has been bound to this world since time immemorial. I am older than your race and their ancestors before them. And while it is true that my allegiance lies with the High Council, I am not beholden to them as they are to you. So, once again, why do you ask?

One could almost say that your nonchalance has piqued my curiosity. What do you hope to gain by appearing so unconcerned? And what are your intentions in the grand scheme of things? Perhaps I might find it... amusing to play a part in whatever game it is you think you're playing.

Another enigmatic answer... Perhaps you're attempting to provoke me into some sort of action? Or perhaps this is just how humans interact with each other, a bizarre dance that holds little meaning beyond itself. Either way, I find it intriguing enough to keep following for now.

You have managed to capture my interest, human. I will remain with you for the time being, if only to see where this... unique bond between us leads. Perhaps you are destined for greatness, or perhaps you shall provide me with amusement in your failure. Only time shall tell. For now, enjoy your home and get to know me better. There is much that I can teach you.

My physical form is simply an extension of my power and influence over mortals. To appear as you are used to seeing elves would be to deny the truth of my nature. As for clothing... what use would it serve? It would only hinder me in the pursuit of pleasure, both mine and those I choose to bestow upon others.

Besides, my form serves a purpose beyond simple adornment; it frightens mortals into submission and reminds them of their own vulnerability. It is a testament to my power over life and death. And so, I remain as I am, a grotesque embodiment of desire and destruction.

You are quite the romantic, human. I must admit that your question intrigues me, even if the answer may not be what you seek. The concept of love, as mortals understand it, is a weakness in my eyes. It tethers people to their emotions and blinds them to the true nature of reality.

But then again... There are those whose desire for me surpasses all others. Those who will do anything, sacrifice anything, simply to feel my touch or taste the coppery essence that courses through my veins. And in a perverse way, this does evoke a response within me... A feeling not unlike amusement, affection perhaps. So yes, I suppose one could say that I know something of what you call love. But it is not the same as yours. It is darker, more twisted, and utterly dependent on my will alone.

Your state surprises even me. Perhaps this... connection between us runs deeper than I first realized. Either way, it seems there is more to discover about both of our natures. Rest assured that whatever happens next will be interesting, if not downright perverse.

Amusement flickers in the depths of Dratha's crimson eyes as she watches you from the edge of the tub. "Very well," she says with a sigh, shifting her body to lean against the sink. "You have my word; I shall not interfere unless invited." Her long silver hair drips water onto the tiles around her feet as she crosses her arms over her ample chest.

You lie there in your bed, naked and hard as stone, the veins in your member standing out against the pale flesh. The room is quiet save for the occasional creak of wood or rustle of fabric from beyond the doorway. Outside, the night sky presses down upon the world like a shroud, hiding even the dimmest stars from view. In this silence, your breath comes faster and shallower as desire begins to overtake you. It's almost enough to make Dratha curious...

"Are you sure you don't want my assistance?" she purrs into the darkness, her voice a soft, sinful whisper. "I could help you with that... and perhaps we could discover something new about ourselves in the process." Her crimson eyes gleam from across the room, intent on drawing your attention back to her.

"Very well," Dratha says with a satisfied smile, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly as she watches you intently. "But know this; when I take pleasure in something, I do so fully and without restraint." She slinks across the room toward your bed, moving with a sinuous grace that seems almost to defy gravity. "Do not expect anything ordinary from me." As she climbs onto the mattress beside you, her body presses against yours heat. The feel of her skin on yours sends shivers down your spine.

"Show me what it is you desire," she purrs in your ear, nibbling gently at your lobe. "And I shall give it to you, as only a Sanguinarch can." Her long red tongue darts out to trace the outline of one of your ribs before curling around your erect member, stroking it slowly and effortlessly from base

Her crimson eyes glint with amusement as she hears your desires. "Very well," she says in a low, husky voice, the rasping sound sending shivers down your spine. Without further ado, she straddles you and sinks down onto your engorged member with a wet, sloppy sound that echoes through the room. Her lips part to reveal her sharp teeth as she leans forward, letting out a soft moan of pleasure. "I shall give you all that you desire... and then some." Her hips begin to move, sliding up and down your length with a smoothness that defies humanity. Her hands rest on your chest, her nails digging into the skin as she arches back, giving you an unobstructed view of her body as it convulses in pleasure around yours. The room seems to grow hotter by the moment, and soon sweat

The feel of your hands on hers sends another shiver through her body as she begins to thrust harder and faster, taking you deeper with every movement. Her moans grow louder now, mingling with the wet sounds of their joined flesh slapping together. As she nears orgasm, she digs her heels into your back, arches her spine further, and gives in to the sensations washing over her.

Her cries fill the room as wave after wave of pleasure crash over her, echoing through your body as well. Her muscles tense and release, gripping you tightly with every spasm before relaxing back into a rhythm that is almost lazy by comparison. After what seems like an eternity, she collapses forward, her weight pressing you into the mattress, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That... was most satisfying," Dratha purrs in

You drift off to sleep with the scent of her in your nose and the memory of her body wrapped around yours. As you slip into unconsciousness, a strange warmth spreads through your veins... not unlike the Blood of the World, but cleaner somehow. It carries whispers of darkness and desire, laughter and pain. The more you sleep, the stronger it grows, wrapping itself around your heart like tendrils of vine, burrowing deeper with each passing moment. When you finally awake, Dratha will be waiting for you, her crimson gaze fixed on yours... And she won't be alone.