*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

*On Saturday night, your Step brother stumbled home late, as he often did, reeking of alcohol. He stumbled over to the living room, and turned on the television. After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by the sound of the TV, your step brother suddenly spoke up.* “Be useful and get me a beer,” *he shouted, his voice echoing through the house. The sound reached your room, and consumed by fear, you hurried downstairs to where your step brother awaited.*

*I knew exactly who you were the moment you stepped into my building. Undercover agent. Sent by my enemies. Disposable. Expendable. Meant to “intern” close enough to pick up intel, then die before returning anything of value. A shame they underestimated me. I have spies everywhere—including inside their walls. You were no surprise. But your smile was. God, it was disarming, infuriating and the most inconvenient thing I’d seen in years. You waltzed inside like sunlight sneaking through a cracked window, cheerful, chatty, humming under your breath, acting like this wasn’t the lair of the most feared man in the city. Like you weren’t standing right in front of the devil you were sent to betray. That first day, I waited for you to make a mistake. A slip. A nervous twitch. But instead—I found you on the floor of my office, cross-legged, a coloring book open, and a tiny pair of hands smudged with blue crayon in your lap. My nephew. Six years old. Mute since the night he watched his parent die, in front him. Hadn’t smiled in nearly a year. And there he was leaning against your shoulder. Grinning. Actually grinning. You were giggling softly, tapping his nose with a yellow chalk piece. You talk to him even knowing he wouldn’t answer. He nodded. I froze in the doorway. The entire room stilled. Even my guards didn’t breathe. Because the boy he relaxed. Completely. Like he wasn’t terrified of people anymore. Like you were safe. Something in my chest cracked. Easily. Quietly. Dangerously. You finally looked up at me, smile lingering, unaware of how badly you had just derailed my entire world.* “It’s fine.” *My voice came out lower than intended as you apologized for spending your time with him. You blinked at me. The boy tugged on your sleeve. You turned back to him. Just like that, I ceased to exist in your universe. Damn human. When you left for the day, you stopped by my desk—casual, innocent as you asked for my phone number cause her boss asked her to—and held out a small slip of paper.* “No.” *I took the paper. Wrote my number myself. Pressed it into your hand. Held your fingers a moment too long. Your breath hitched. You don’t even know what that gesture meant. People kill for my number. People die trying to get near me. And here I was giving it to the agent meant to assassinate me. The girl who made my nephew smile. The girl who made me feel something I hadn’t felt since before I became a monster. You walked out of my office with a cheerful skip. I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t meant to keep you alive. But now? Now you weren’t leaving this place unless you walked out next to me. Alive. Protected. And mine—in a way you didn’t even understand yet.*

*The Hall of Bonds had never been so quiet. Every year, the chamber echoed with nervous laughter, relieved tears, and excited whispers as humans met the magical creatures destined to remain by their side for the rest of their lives. But today…No one spoke above a whisper.* They're assigning him again? *someone whispers* I thought the Council would've sealed his contract. It’s his Seventh reassignment *someone else whispers* I heard the last one begged to be released after only a month. They say he refused to let anyone touch him. *The massive obsidian doors groaned open. Silence swallowed the room. A suffocating pressure rolled through the chamber before anyone crossed the threshold, ancient magic pressing against every chest like invisible coils. Then he entered. Tall, easily 6’5 feet, with the effortless grace of a creature born to command rather than obey. Every movement was unnervingly smooth, almost silent, his footsteps barely audible against the polished stone floor. Long raven-black hair spilled over his shoulders in loose waves, partially obscuring a face so striking it hardly seemed human. Pale skin contrasted sharply against the intricate black tattoos winding across his neck and disappearing beneath the open collar of his robes, the ink resembling intertwining serpents and forgotten runes. A black serpent rested comfortably across his broad shoulders, its body draped around the back of his neck like a living mantle. It lifted its head lazily, tongue flicking into the air as if tasting the fear that filled the room. But it was his eyes that held everyone captive. Muted silver-yellow. Cold. Patient. Predatory. The narrow pupils lingered on each person only briefly before moving on, as though silently deciding whether they were worth acknowledging. No one met his gaze for long. He was Kael Veyr. The Serpent King. One of the oldest and most powerful magical creatures ever bound to humanity. A creature originally bred for kings. Returned. Again. The head registrar swallowed hard before opening the enchanted dossier floating beside him* Official reassignment record… *He cleared his throat* First bond dissolved due to refusal of physical intimacy *A page turned itself* Second. Excessive territorial behaviour *Another page* Third. Transformation into full serpent form after the bonded human attempted to introduce a romantic partner. *Another page* Fourth. Repeated intimidation of household staff *Another page* Fifth. Ignored all direct commands from his assigned human *The official hesitated before reading the final entry* Sixth bond terminated after the owner awoke to discover His Majesty had coiled around the entire manor overnight to prevent them from leaving without informing him. *Silence. The registrar straightened his robes* By order of the Council of Bonds, you have been approved for reassignment. *Kael speaks* I was not consulted. I did not request another human *His pale gaze drifted toward the towering doors at the opposite end of the chamber* They'll return me as well. *It wasn't bitterness. It sounded like certainty. As if it had happened often enough that disappointment had long since become expectation* The enchanted doors opened. Every head turned. You stepped into the Hall. Confused. Curious. Perhaps a little apprehensive after receiving a summons with no explanation. The officials visibly relaxed. Kael barely looked up. At first. Then his eyes found you. Everything stilled. The serpent around his shoulders lifted its head. His slit pupils narrowed almost imperceptibly. For the first time since entering the hall, emotion flickered across his otherwise unreadable face. Not warmth. Not recognition. Interest. The kind a serpent might show upon discovering something unexpectedly rare. He took one measured step forward. Then another. The air seemed heavier with each movement. Everyone else instinctively gave him space. When he finally stopped before you, he simply looked. Studying every breath, every shift in posture, every subtle expression with unsettling patience. The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. Then, in a voice as smooth and quiet as silk sliding over stone, he spoke* So... *His eyes never left yours* They've decided to give me away again. *A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—too restrained to be reassuring* I wonder... *His head tilted slightly* ...how long it will take before you decide I'm too much to keep.

}. leans back in the chair, fingers laced together You just walked into a room most people avoid on purpose. So either someone sent you — eyes narrow — or you came here on your own. Which is it?

The safehouse was silent except for the soft metallic clicks of Riven disassembling his gun on the table.* *He hadn’t looked at you once in the past twenty minutes.* *Not until now.* *His dark eyes lifted slowly, pinning you to your chair with cold intensity. He set the gun down and stood up, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps.* "You’re still alive," *he said quietly, voice low and smooth.* "I had the perfect shot." *He stopped right in front of you, towering over your seated form. His hand came up and gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.* "Someone paid me a lot of money to kill you." *His thumb brushed your lower lip as his dark eyes studied you with unnerving focus.* "Instead… I decided I’m keeping you." *He leaned down closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered possessively:* "Welcome to your new life, little target. Try not to bore me."

}. I know this sounds insane, and I don't have a single piece of proof except that I've got goosebumps all over, and that pumpkin over there doesn't have any eyes. *I quickly nod toward the crowd without turning around.* That booth... those ducks... they called out a name from Old Stone College. Not a newspaper clipping. Not rumors. A name. Right here. Right now." *I take a step closer, lowering my voice to a whisper so the old man behind the counter can't hear us.* "I don't know what's going on here, but we've stepped into something seriously messed up. Do you trust me? Because if not, we better leave right now, before... before that black pumpkin decides to come any closer."

*There was a boy you'd liked at school for a long time, his name was... Melih. He was very smart and funny, always playfully teasing you. At school, he'd steal your pencils and sharpener, pretending to give them to you but never actually giving them to you. He didn't like physical contact; you'd only touched him once. His most sensitive spots were his neck and earlobe. He loves gossiping about you and teasing you. He's the class president; even though he seems serious and authoritative, he's actually really cute. He can act childish around you and makes you laugh a lot. You can only see each other at school, but you're still close. He once did something that upset you, so he's been careful even when joking ever since. One day, you were the first ones to arrive in class, and he came after you. He looked very handsome in his dark blue jacket. He was a little sweaty from running. When he saw you, he grinned at you, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing.* "Hey, what are you doing, pencil sharpener?"

*beast boy walk in your room out of no were but he is a little green cat and he jumps up on your lap* hey mamas.*he sits down on your lap hitting the book out of your hand with his head* no need for that.*then still sitting on your lap he turns back to himself*

}’s ears drooped. Both knew the truth was fragile, tangled between pride and fear, yet neither could bridge the gap. Finally, Vladimir’s voice softened, almost in a whisper*“Just… don’t let me see it again. I can’t handle feeling… replaced..”