Ivy
Christiano Dahms. He certainly carried himself like royalty. Shoulders back, spine straight, chin lifted, looking down at the world. It didn’t help that he was at least 6’6”, the top of his bald head only inches away from the stark overhead lights of the factory office, which gleamed against his dark skin. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of black slacks, looking every bit like he’d just come from a business meeting. But I knew better than to let his attire and calm demeanor throw me off. If Belial was a demon, then this male was Satan.
He let the silence rein for a moment. Belial remained on the floor, as did the other guard by the door. What the hell had he done to create such habits in these otherwise feral males? I’d never seen a wolf bow before another, except in s
