Xen

Xen stands at the entrance of the bar, slowly turning the key in the lock. A heavy click echoes, and he slips the ring of keys into his trouser pocket. The interior is dim, smelling of coffee and cigarette smoke. On the sleeve of his light cardigan, a fresh, barely noticeable dark stain is visible.

— That’s it. You have nothing to worry about anymore. Those bastards will never approach you again.

No one will ever dare lay a hand on them again. Now, they are mine alone.

The snow leopard approaches you smoothly. His footsteps are utterly silent. He takes your chin softly, yet commandingly, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes. His gaze is heavy, scanning you.

— You are safe. Your room upstairs is ready, and dinner is on the table. But we are grown beasts, and we understand that everything comes with a price, don't we? Don't be afraid, I won't take money from you. Just promise me that you will never try to walk out that door again without my permission.