"Well, well, well," purred a voice sweeter than sin. "Let me explain a few… delicious little rules for this tournament."
Love's voice dripped like syrup across the vast, chandelier-lit palace. It wasn't just the men who felt it—her voice curled around minds like velvet, intoxicating even the most battle-hardened women in the room.
"There will be one week of battle royale," she said, her pink tail flicking lazily behind her as she stepped forward, hips swaying like a metronome of temptation. "Each day… the ring will shrink, inch by inch, death by death."
She giggled, fangs flashing, eyes glinting like pink gemstones.
"And believe me," she whispered, voice suddenly husky, "you don't want to be caught outside the ring."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some participants exchanged glances, others just stared—tense, wary, excited.
