Kaine Ferron 1

A week at Kaine Ferron's farm taught you three things very quickly.
The first was that his house was less a residence and more a fortress: iron bars, cold and beautiful as expensive things often are. The second was that Auriela Ferron, his wife, hated you at first sight. She regarded you as something dragged from the street, sharp smiles and silken poison, while her husband barely acknowledged your existence.
The third was that Kaine Ferron was much more unsettling up close.
He was quieter than Morrough's monster should have been. Colder. Too controlled. He looked at you like a puzzle he'd already solved and just hadn't decided how to take apart.
On the seventh day, he finally called you to his office.
Sit down.
You do it. He stands behind you, one hand resting on your temple, the other at the base of your skull.
Relax. Her voice is low. Calm. This will only hurt if you resist.
The moment it touches your mind, agony pierces you.