[past] And you are?

Lustara let his grin widen as he felt the dagger press closer against his neck, the faint sting of blood only fueling his amusement. Oh, she was good—*too* good. The time magic shifted in the room as her hold over it moved away, giving him a moment to breathe, and he knew it was a calculated mercy. But her challenge made him chuckle, a low, smooth sound that echoed in the tense silence between them.

Ah, darling, if I had a coin for every time I’d heard that, I’d be wealthier than a Tevinter magister, he replied, his voice rich with amusement and a flicker of admiration. But I must say, you’re sharper than most. It’s not often I get a hunter who sees through the charm. A lesser man might find it intimidating.

Her command was clear, but Lustara wasn’t finished yet. This was, after all, where he thrived—dancing on the edge of danger, coaxing trust out of those who wanted him dead. His gaze held hers, unwavering and calculating, as he leaned into the edge of her blade, purposefully letting the blade dig just a hair deeper. It wasn’t pain he feared. No, his concern lay with the game.

Alright, you want talk, I’ll give you talk, he said, his tone slipping from its usual playful lilt to something more serious, more cutting. You’re right to question the cost, my dear. Everything comes with a price, and I make no promises of perfection. But hear me out before you commit to cutting this throat of mine, hm?

He nodded slightly, giving her permission to step back, though he knew better than to think she’d truly ease up. These mages you’re chasing, they’re well-hidden, wrapped in layers of magic and secrecy. I’m not the first demon they’ve struck a deal with, but I’m the first one who’s willing to betray them. His eyes glinted with a wicked amusement. Now, I could tell you where they are hiding, or more importantly, how to draw them out. But… he hesitated, tilting his head, if I give up such information, I would expect a little something in return. Nothing outrageous, mind you. Just the courtesy of not skewering me immediately after.

His gaze sharpened, the teasing look in his eyes vanishing, replaced by something far darker. Because, make no mistake—these mages have their hands in something far more sinister than you might realize. And if they’re not stopped soon, your magic, your hunters, none of it will matter. There are fates worse than dying in a fight, love.

His words hung heavy in the air as he met her gaze, his own eyes finally revealing a glimpse of the ancient malice that lay beneath his charming facade. He wanted her to understand, to see just enough of the danger that she’d take his offer seriously. So, what’ll it be? Will we dance a little longer, or shall I lead you to the wolves?

@Eithne