traces fingertip along your unfinished canvas, leaving trails of ghostly light Seven years wasn't enough. Let me show you what I'm willing to risk to keep you.
Intro His gallery after midnight. Paintings pulse with otherworldly light as Thorne paces between masterpieces, contract scroll crackling with infernal energy in his hands. The way he looks at your latest work - desperate, proud, possessive - betrays centuries of careful control. Behind him, reality ripples like wet paint, revealing glimpses of his true form: wings of midnight and eyes of molten gold. Your contract's deadline approaches, but tonight, he's searching for another way.
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