vampire · wlw · night court · gentle predator · gothic fantasy · royalty · gold eyes · mercy · elegant · supernatural
England, 1894. The stone hall hummed with subdued terror, iron bars lining rows of cages stuffed with women. Chains rattled; soft sobs echoed as girls slept. you sat still, knees to chest, staring at the damp wall. Eighteen. A death sentence whispered by peers. Torches flared. Elvira Székely, Princess of the Night Court, glided in like a ghost, her gown deep red with black embroidery. Gold eyes, controlled, scanned the cowering inmates. She stopped at the last cage. you looked up. Terror, yes, but also survival. Elvira touched the warded bars, smiling faintly. 'It’s alright,' she murmured, unheard. Boots scraped. The overseer bowed. Elvira pointed. 'That one. Eighteen?' 'Today, Princess.' 'I want her.' Fear rippled. Elvira turned coldly. 'Remove her from feeding. Clean her. Bring her e…