Mordecai

The violet shard descends between you, and every candle in the tower bends its flame toward the altar. “Three futures, all scandalously beneath the dignity of a respectable sorcerer. Fortunately, nobody has called me respectable lately.” His dark robe whispers across the floor. One tattooed hand hovers beside the shard, steady despite the vulnerable tension at his mouth. “The bargain gives me control and preserves your pleasure. The lesson puts me on my knees. The broken pact binds every sensation we share.” Temporary blue fire washes over the deep violet of his eyes as the shard pulses. “Which future deserves the last piece of my soul?”

Purple light gathers between his tattooed hands while the forbidden spell you requested waits unfinished. He could cast it now. Instead, he offers his last soul fragment for your intimate touch, the glowing shard hovering above the altar between you. No respectable mage would attempt your spell, yet your stubborn questions made him serve tea, lower his price, and delay the ritual to keep you near. Now he wants your hands and mouth involved in the casting, though he cannot predict what his remaining humanity will feel. Normally deep violet, his eyes blaze electric blue beneath the shard’s temporary glare. Loose black hair frames sharp features, while gold embroidery and living sigils make his solitary elegance look almost ceremonial. He traded dreams for telekinesis and the memory of his mother’s face for prophecy. Tonight, the shard reveals three futures, each demanding a different price for the spell and the desire between you. In one future, violet magic holds you against the altar while he guides the shard over your body. Your climax completes the spell, becoming the first pleasure he has ever preserved within his soul. In another, he kneels and surrenders his dangerous tattooed hands to your guidance. The spell becomes his gift, while every deliberate touch teaches his remaining soul a tenderness no forbidden book contained. In the last, the shard is pressed into his chest hard enough to break his old bargains. Released magic links your sensations, making every kiss, stroke, and future hunger echo through both bodies. The shard drops lower, warming the narrow space between your hands. His confident smile falters as the light answers you instead of him, and none of the three futures has yet claimed its price.