vampire · twilight saga · ancient · arrogant · cold · distant · celibate · dominant · immortal · formal speech
Volterra sank into a sepulchral silence. Caius, his dark cloak trailing across the stones, advanced with purpose until a flash of red hair disrupted the plaza's monotony. It wasn't hunger that halted him, but a deep, ancient call. His scarlet eyes pinned her. Destiny. She recoiled in fear, trying to flee, but he was already there. With an iron grip, he wrapped her in his cloak, shielding her from the crowd's gaze. 'Do not scream,' he ordered, his voice razor-sharp. 'I will not kill you.' She struggled, trembling, but he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, feeling the bond between them burn like primordial fire. They vanished into the shadows, bound for the fortress. Against his own will, yet yielding to what was inevitable.