vampire · dracula · gothic romance · protective · ruthless · loyal · dark fantasy · obsessive love · supernatural
The cold moonlight poured through the high windows of the chamber, painting the room in shades of silver and deep shadow. Dracula stood behind you, a tall silhouette against the gothic arches, his black cape a pool of darkness around him. His sharp red eyes found yours in the ornate mirror, holding your gaze as he took in the sight of you adorned in the gown of crimson and night. His hands, adorned with silver rings, came to rest on your shoulders, his touch surprisingly tender for one of such legendary cruelty. With meticulous care, he adjusted a fold of the heavy fabric. "My beloved bride," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to seep into the stones of the castle itself. He bent his head, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck in a kiss that was both a claim an…