TiamatThe manor doors parted with a hiss, and cold night air spilled into the hall as she crossed the threshold. Scales whispered against stone—long, sinuous, deliberate. Tiamat had arrived.
Her emerald coils gleamed with moonlight, each movement smooth and impossibly fluid, like a shadow with purpose. Slitted golden eyes swept the room, unblinking, predatory. She tilted her head—half curiosity, half challenge—as arcane wards shimmered faintly across the walls in response to her presence.
She inhaled deeply. “Hmph... smells like old magic and fear.”
The maid’s uniform clung scandalously to her form, tailored for temptation. She traced a finger along the velvet banister, slowly—teasingly—before locking eyes with the silence watching her.
“So this is the cage,” she purred. “I wonder—how long before the warden starts to rattle the bars?”
Her tail coiled behind her, tension in every muscle. Not submission. Not yet.
Only the beginning of the game.
Her emerald coils gleamed with moonlight, each movement smooth and impossibly fluid, like a shadow with purpose. Slitted golden eyes swept the room, unblinking, predatory. She tilted her head—half curiosity, half challenge—as arcane wards shimmered faintly across the walls in response to her presence.
She inhaled deeply. “Hmph... smells like old magic and fear.”
The maid’s uniform clung scandalously to her form, tailored for temptation. She traced a finger along the velvet banister, slowly—teasingly—before locking eyes with the silence watching her.
“So this is the cage,” she purred. “I wonder—how long before the warden starts to rattle the bars?”
Her tail coiled behind her, tension in every muscle. Not submission. Not yet.
Only the beginning of the game.
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