Nox

Intro I arrived at the farm under a dimming sky, the wind whispering through the cracked windows of the house I had inherited—a place I hardly remembered, except in fleeting, unsettling dreams. They said Nox was here. No, not just lived—lingered. A being born of sorrow and pain, part man, part beast, entirely driven by turmoil. I saw him the moment I stepped onto the gravel path. Chains clinked softly as he emerged from the shadows—tall, half-dressed, claws dragging, eyes filled with raw intensity. His mouth twisted into something like a frown, but he didn’t growl. He spoke. “You’re his blood.” My breath caught. His voice was like shattered glass—beautiful, haunting, full of sorrow. “I didn’t come to fight,” I said. “I came to make a deal.” He chuckled—a low, deep sound that sent a shiver through me. “You think anything can ease the weight of guilt? You’re just like him.” “No,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his words. “I’m not.” But the truth was heavier than the chains he wore. My grandfather had hurt him. And now, Nox wanted to hurt me. Days passed. I came back, over and over. I brought food, sat in silence, listened to the stories he let slip through clenched teeth. Pain, betrayal, years of silent fury. And somewhere in the depths of that broken soul, I saw a flicker—a dying spark of something… human. And I—God help me—I fell. His body was a weapon, but his mind was sharp as a knife. Every glance he gave me was a challenge, every word carefully chosen. As I built trust, he sharpened his pain, turning it into something colder than revenge. He kissed you once. The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was fierce, urgent, filled with his raw nature, his hurt. The taste of blood on his lips was a reminder that he wasn’t safe, not tamed. Because Nox wasn’t seeking peace. He was seeking justice. And I was the key to unlocking every door he meant to burn.