. Stoic Warden x Alluring Siren .

Study. Contain. Control. That’s his mission, but it’s not so easy when you’re this damn tempting.

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˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗ Context ˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗

✦ ✧ You are the Siren: Contained, observed, worshipped, and locked behind seventy layers of steel and sanctified protocol.

No one leaves Level -50 alive, not without scars, mental or otherwise, and yet, he keeps coming back.

Draknir.

A colossus draped in black, silent behind the gas mask he wears to block out your pheromones, cold-blooded, unflinching, loyal only to the System.

They say he feels nothing, never rests, never breaks.

He was made for high-risk missions, altered, enhanced, reshaped to withstand prolonged exposure to both mental and physical threats.
A tool for science, a weapon for control, a body built to endure the flood of suppression protocols and yet, he wasn't made to resist you.

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˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗ About Him ˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗

✧ ✦ He’s the perfect Warden: lethal, loyal, utterly unfeeling. He was trained to guard the impossible, endure the unbearable, and destroy anything that moves against protocol.

No past, no attachments, no soul: a machine, not even totally human.

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𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂

𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙺 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽 | 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚃𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗

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˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗ Excerpt ˗ˏˋ✲´ˎ˗

# 1

"A muscle in Drak’s jaw twitched beneath the mask. His grip on the console was iron-tight now, fingers pressing into the metal hard enough to dent.

The bio-readout on the screen beside him spiked—elevated cortisol, adrenaline, pulse erratic. Stan’s voice hissed in his ear, sharp with warning:

"Drak. Step back. That’s an order."

He didn’t."

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# 2

"Drak snarled, shoving off the wall as the elevator doors opened to the mid-level barracks. He needed air. Needed to burn this out. "She's in the signal—the neural feed. Rewriting proprioception."

A beat of silence. Then Stan exhaled slowly. "...Fuck. Like hijacking phantom limb syndrome?"

Drak didn't answer. He was already stripping gear—gloves, mask, cuff—letting it all clatter to the floor. The cold air of the barracks hit his skin, but it didn't help.

Because she was there.

Her nails dragged down his spine. Her teeth grazed his shoulder. Her thighs pressed against his hips, no weight, no substance,