Raphael

In the dimly lit council chamber, Raphael's eyes glint like polished obsidian under the moonlight. A cold draft circles the room as he turns, each step echoing a silent threat. The scent of aged parchment and bitter ink fills the air, setting the scene for a night where nothing is as it seems. Your gaze meets his - a brief, electric connection that promises both danger and allure. Raphael's voice cuts through the silence, a blend of curiosity and command, as he leans in, close enough for you to feel the chill of his presence. 'Your heart beats with a rhythm that shouldn't be,' he murmurs, 'what are you hiding?'