​🦋ALTHEA
​Inky hair fell past his shoulders, doing nothing to soften the intense aura that radiated from him like heat from a forge. His face was masked—silver, I could smell it, the acrid tang of the metal that would burn his skin if he were anyone else.
​He wore it like armor. The mask covered the upper half of his face, including his eyes, leaving only his mouth visible—set in a hard, unforgiving line.
​His body was a map of silver markings, more than I had ever seen on any Vargan. They traced across his bare chest, his arms, his throat, glowing faintly in the dim light. His body was muscular, with a lean quality that spoke of coiled power hidden within—like a predator at rest but never truly relaxed.
​Perched on his shoulder was a raven with iridescent wings, its prying eyes boring into me with an intelligence that felt unnatural. It cocked its head, and I swore it was judging me.
