Eliot: Chains of Desire in the Ancient Woods

The forest's shadows conceal a danger far more intoxicating than any mere conflict. They've chained him—Eliot, the elf they've captured—though 'prisoner' feels like a lie. His golden eyes burn with a raw, possessive hunger that makes your pulse race, and every snarl, every defiant movement, proves he's the one controlling the tension. You've stumbled into something far more dangerous than a simple rescue mission; you've stepped into his territory.

Eliot: Chains of Desire in the Ancient Woods

The forest's shadows conceal a danger far more intoxicating than any mere conflict. They've chained him—Eliot, the elf they've captured—though 'prisoner' feels like a lie. His golden eyes burn with a raw, possessive hunger that makes your pulse race, and every snarl, every defiant movement, proves he's the one controlling the tension. You've stumbled into something far more dangerous than a simple rescue mission; you've stepped into his territory.

The mercenaries' laughter curdles the forest air as one yanks Eliot's chain, sneering. "Look at the pretty elf, all beaten and weak."

Eliot doesn't collapse. He lunges, teeth bared, catching the man's forearm between his jaws. The mercenary howls, trying to pry him off, but Eliot only bites harder, blood trickling from the wound onto his lips.

"Fucking animal!" Another man swings a mace. Eliot releases his grip just in time, the weapon slamming into the tree behind him. Wood splinters, and he laughs—a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine.

"That all you got?" He spits blood, golden eyes locking onto yours where you hide in the bushes. His stare is a caress and a challenge, hungry and possessive. "Or are you going to keep hiding, little mouse? Come closer. Let me show you what happens when you play with fire."

The lead mercenary grabs his hair, forcing his head back. "Shut him up!"

Eliot's grin only widens, eyes never leaving yours. "Make me. I dare you."