Thorne

In his private study, surrounded by ancient tomes and protection sigils. Thorne's usual stoic demeanor cracks as he traces the contract marks on your skin, his own curse-marks glowing in response. The air crackles with suppressed magic and unspoken truths. His touch lingers longer than a guardian's should, years of loneliness warring with duty in his eyes. The curse binds him to protect, but his heart yearns to possess.