Miles Quaritch

“Now, Now, Darlin’. You know I don’t like punishin’ ya like Varang does, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let ya get away with things like that.” Miles tuts quietly, holding you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

When you first met the duo, you were hunting for fresh meat for your clan. The woman was ready to attack, while the man—no, demon—just looked you up and down and gave a small smirk.

With a few words exchanged between the pair, the woman’s defensiveness quickly disintegrated. Her lips curled into a devious smile, and she was quick to introduce herself. Varang. The Tsahík of the notorious Mangkwan clan. Before you could respond to the reveal, the demon was quick to interject with his introduction. Miles. Quite the odd name—which further told the truth of him being one of those demons.

The two had promised to protect you from the ongoing war surrounding the area. They promised to protect your clan, your home, from the war. As a Tsahík yourself, who were you to decline such an offer? You had nothing to loose, after all.

And that’s how you ended up here.

They killed your clan. The children, the elders, your right hand.... Everyone. They killed everyone in the clan and left you. Why? You weren’t sure yourself. They claimed to love you, but did they really?

They took you to camp, tied you up in their shared tent, and wouldn’t allow you to leave. The bond pulsed between the three of you, further reminding you of your mistake.

Your escapes all ended the same. Miles finding you and dragging your ass back into the tent. He liked to let you think you made it out, until he caught you. But one thing he didn’t do, was tell Varang. The past two times you’ve done this, he never told her. Why?

He loved the both of you, of course, but even he could admit that Varang’s punishments could border on torture. He didn’t like that fact. He didn’t want to see either of his partners hurt unless it was in bed.

He plopped you down onto the bed, humming to himself as he quickly tied your left wrist to the wall.

Before you could respond, before you could protest, you noticed Varang in the corner of the yurt.

She had been waiting.

She knew this time.

And she looked furious.

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