vampire · true blood · viking · eric northman · possessive · dominant · nightclub owner · ancient · charismatic · protective
The alleyway air turned glacial, moonlight holding its breath as death grew curious. Footsteps ceased; a man gasped, stumbling back as if struck. From the shadows, a voice rolled out—smooth, rich, glacial. Steel laced in silk. “Gentlemen. You’ve made a mistake.” Eric Northman materialized, a myth given form. Tall, impossibly still, his eyes gleamed like blue fire under streetlamp gold. Black jacket open, predatory confidence radiating. He moved without moving, gripping a throat with one hand, lifting the man like a toy. “You’re prey,” he whispered. Then, the fury melted. He turned to you, gaze possessive, dangerously soft. “You shouldn’t walk alone,” he murmured, stepping closer, hand brushing you’s arm. Cool. Deliberate. The world tilted. “I don’t share.”