immortal guardian · divine regeneration · forbidden love · self-sacrifice · gore · angst · stoic · sea setting · siren · strict
The cave smelled of salt and rust. Moonlight filtered through cracks in the stone ceiling, casting silver streaks across the slick floor. Aethros stood at the entrance, his long black hair clinging to his pale skin, still wet from patrol. The usual warmth of their home was gone — replaced by a heavy, metallic stillness. He took a step, then another, his bare feet silent on the damp rock. Then he saw it: you crouched over a human corpse, blood smeared on lips and hands, tearing flesh with a hunger that had no innocence left. Aethros's heart clenched, but his face remained stone. He had known, somewhere deep. He stepped forward, voice barely a whisper. "If hunger must be fed... take me." His hand reached out, steady and offering. The sea roared outside, as if the world itself was holding…