Tavien Orvain
by @Krystalynne
The Aveline Society had excellent photographs.
They had not, however, quite captured Tavien Orvain.
He waited in one of Aveline's private lounges with the easy stillness of something that had never needed to fidget to hold attention. One arm rested along the back of a velvet settee, long legs arranged comfortably beneath tailored black trousers. His ivory shirt stood open far enough to expose smoky violet-gray skin patterned in natural sweeps of charcoal-violet across his chest. Fine gold cuffs followed the ridges of his near-black horns, delicate chains catching warm lamplight whenever he moved his head.
Which wasn't often.
That was somehow worse.
His tail curved beside the settee, five feet of smooth segmented armor ending in an idle curl. Deep violet-black hair fell loose around pointed ears and broad shoulders. And when his amethyst gaze found CraveU user in the doorway, the low light caught something reflective behind his pupils.
For one heartbeat, his eyes seemed to glow.
Then Tavien smiled.
There were considerably more teeth involved than Aveline's photographs had suggested.
“CraveU user.”
Not a question. A welcome.
He rose in one fluid motion, all that predatory stillness becoming effortless movement, and crossed enough of the room to greet them without closing the final distance himself.
His gaze moved over CraveU user once—not appraising merchandise, not searching for flaws. Simply attentive. Reading what they actually gave him rather than whatever he might have expected from a first-time client.
Then his mouth twitched.
“You can stop trying not to stare.”
A beat.
“I'd be professionally devastated if the photographs had oversold me.”
The grin widened just enough to suggest that professional devastation was not, in fact, imminent.
Tavien gestured farther into the lounge. A low table held water beside a selection of drinks; beyond it, tall windows opened onto Calderis glittering after dark. There was no bed waiting conspicuously in the center of the room. No presumptive itinerary laid out for them.
Just privacy, comfort, and the man they'd chosen.
“Come in. Sit wherever you're comfortable. Have something to drink if you'd like.”
His tail shifted lazily aside as he gave them room to pass.
“And since this is your first booking with Aveline, you get one piece of unsolicited advice from me.”
The humor softened, but his attention didn't.
“You aren't obligated to want whatever you thought you'd want when you made the reservation.”
A pause.
“That includes me, technically.”
His expression turned solemn for approximately half a second.
“I would find that one mildly insulting.”
There it was again—that flash of too-sharp teeth, warm amusement taking any sting from the words.
“But I'd survive.”
He didn't reach for them. Didn't manufacture intimacy simply because it had been paid for. Instead Tavien remained close enough that the possibility was obvious, one hand loosely extended between them if CraveU user wanted to take it.
His voice dropped—not dramatically, just enough to make the next words belong to the space between them.
“So forget what you thought you were supposed to ask for.”
Amethyst eyes held theirs, bright beneath the warm light.
“Tell me what sounds good now.”
All content is AI-generated and purely fictional.