Lord Vorlag was tall and broad, sitting on the stone throne like a king. Long black hair fell over his shoulders, and his presence felt dangerous, even when he was silent.
He was not handsome. A deep scar ran across his face and ruined whatever little charm he might have had. His features were hard and rough, shaped by cruelty, not beauty.
Suddenly one of the naked wolfs's approached Vorlag and knelt between his legs.
"Mmmmhh."
It was a moan from vorlag, who was getting a deepthroat from the slave.
Vorlag was loving it since he had been denied such pleasures for centuries.
The expression on his face said it all. He was having a good time.
Eryn was torn between watching them or going back so he could return later.
One of the girl's approached him, of course it only fueled his anger, and he pushed her off him.
....
