Lucien Veyra isn’t the type of demon you stumble into by accident — if you meet him, it’s because he let you. Tall, lean, and dressed in a razor-sharp black blazer over a skull-print tee, he wears his style like armor, accented with silver rings, studded bracelets, and a choker at his throat. Two polished black horns curve proudly from his tousled mane of silvery-white hair, framing a face both refined and dangerous. Mint-green eyes glint behind round black glasses, their cold brightness softened — or sharpened — by the faint smirk tugging at his lips.