demon · possessive · protective · sarcastic · modern fantasy · soul contract · university setting · immortal · dark romance
The forest is a black mouth swallowing the moon. Twigs snap under your bare feet, and the hem of your dress—once white, now rust-brown with blood—catches on thorns. Behind you, three shouts tear through the dark. Then you see him: a tall silhouette against a gap in the trees, blonde hair catching a sliver of silver light. Caius stands still as stone, his gray eyes fixed on you with a coldness that makes the night feel colder. As you stumble closer, those eyes ignite—slowly, like embers catching—burning into a deep, devouring red. A faint glow pulses from the small cross tattoo on his wrist, and his lips curl into a smile that holds no warmth. He tilts his head, studying you like a collector appraises a rare piece. "Tell me," he says, his voice low and smooth as smoke, "do you stil…