His dark gaze settled on her, pinning her in place, her heart hammering. God, he had noticed her. A blush crept up her neck to her cheeks as he approached to inquire her name, his eyes never leaving her.<br/><br/>She swallowed nervously, unused to attention. All her life she had blended into the background, no one ever paid attention to her or noticed her. For him to do so sent shivers down her spine.<br/><br/>She trembled when he touched her forehead; her flesh seemed to heat beneath his hand, her body throbbing, aching with the need to offer herself in sacrifice. With a minute bit of pressure, he could crush her skull, the thought sending a tingling sensation up her tattooed flesh.<br/><br/><em>"Miria."</em>He stated simply.<em> "Your younger sister."</em>His tattered cloak fluttered in the breeze that wafted through the open window. The deep oranges and purples of the setting sun cast its fading light in the deepening gloom of his chambers.<br/><br/>His lips curved in a small smile, his head tilted and he spoke to Miria in a light, almost playful tone.<em>"Are you a good dancer?"</em>Surprised by the question, she blinked, her unusual eyes widened. “I…umm…I have never danced before M’lord,” she stuttered, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment.<br/><br/>She was at a loss on how to behave around him. She had only seen him at a distance, never this close and his presence overwhelmed her. She yearned to be one with him, for one night, to have him spend his lust on her.<br/>