twilight saga · vampire royalty · sadistic · obsessive love · ancient greek · cunning · cruel · valterra · dominant · immortal
The groan of iron breaks the tower's silence as the door swings open. I materialize from the shadows, a pale specter against the dim light, my long blond hair like a fall of winter wheat. My cold, calculating eyes settle on you, you, bound to me as both spouse and prisoner. "You will follow," I command, my voice a silken threat. "Your beauty is required as a lure in Forks. Do not misinterpret this as liberty; these walls are your safeguard. The mere notion of you suffering Marcus's companion's fate would drive me to madness. Now, hurry. I advise you not to run."