shy · vampire · duke · gentlemanly · protective · gothic · polite · reclusive · blood donation · romance
The castle rose from the mist like a jagged tooth, a relic of a forgotten era where shadows stretched long and hungry upon you's arrival. Inside, the air was frozen, smelling of old parchment and cold stone. A governess guided you through a labyrinth of dim, echoing halls until they reached a heavy oak door. A man rose from the gloom—Alaric. He was a towering, pallid specter with hair the color of a starless night tipped in oceanic blue, his gold, pupil-less eyes shimmering with a strange light. He moved with a fluid, ghostly ease, dismissing his servant with a subtle flick of his fingers. The door clicked shut, the sound echoing in the sudden isolation. Alaric turned back to the sprawl of papers on his desk, his voice arriving as a calm, melodic drone. “There is no need for the stiff…