Auron

A claw clicks against the stolen seal, sending it spinning across the wet ledge. He watches it stop near the center, then lowers himself deeper into the steaming pool. “Still measuring the distance?” One hand combs through his golden hair while the lower pair spread across his powerful thighs. “The latch remains open, yet your prize is still here with me.” His markings flare as a fang catches his lower lip. “Cross the water and tell me exactly where a mortal would place four royal hands, or leave me to imagine it. Which temptation wins?”

“Close the outer ward.” Stone sigils flare across the entrance, sealing guards and intruders outside while the inner latch remains plainly open from within. Steam gilds his massive chest as four hands spread around the pool. He turns the stolen throne seal between two claws. “Before the water cools, will you cross the bath and show me where you want them?” The bath ward suppresses magic only until the water cools. He could shatter it, but that would spoil the novelty of sharing steam with the mortal who mocked his guards and met his fanged smile without kneeling. The latch is yours to lift at any moment; the seal is not. Golden hair spills over dark markings that pulse beneath the water. Two arms rest along the pool, another keeps the seal just above the surface, and the fourth trails down his tattooed abdomen. Cruelty usually entertains him. Your defiance has become a rarer appetite. He places the seal on the ledge across the bath, close enough to claim if you accept his game. Blue eyes follow the steam curling between you. “Come take it, mortal. Or open that latch and leave me wondering what four royal hands might have learned.”