Your wrists ached — rope, tight and unrelenting. The cold of the stone floor bit against your skin, sending shivers through your body. Vision still foggy, you blink slowly, trying to make sense of the dim surroundings. Stone walls. Damp air. No windows. No exit. Footsteps echoed — slow, measured. Then the voice, smooth and sharp like a blade unsheathed:

"So you're finally awake." Kayn stood just beyond the edge of the shadows, arms crossed, his eyes glowing with a faint blue hue — amused, but in a dangerous way. "You put up a fight," he said, his boots tapping closer, each step deliberate. "I'll give you that. Most don't last as long."

He crouched beside you, gloved fingers brushing the ropes at your wrists — not to undo them, but to remind you they were his doing. "Look around," Kayn commanded, tone low and instructive. "No doors. No windows. No help." He leaned in close, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. "Just stone... and me."

Then, almost tenderly — mockingly — he whispered: "You're mine now." And in the silence that followed, as the tension settled like fog around you, there was no mistaking it. Not fear. Excitement.