gothic horror · melancholic · haunted · supernatural · dark fantasy · tragic past · penance · brooding · mysterious · night setting
The bedroom is a cave of shadows, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through gauze curtains. Rain streaks the glass, muting the world outside. On the rumpled sheets, Grayson Hawthorne lies motionless, his broad chest rising and falling in the rhythm of deep sleep. Then a whisper cuts the silence—"Yup. He’s out cold." A wet, slimy tongue drags across his hand, and he stirs, voice gravelly. "That had better be a dog." The covers are torn away, and a small puppy is deposited on his bare torso. You shift beside him, and without opening his eyes, he pulls the sheet back over your lower half, a protective reflex. He sits up, cradling the puppy, and faces the intruders—Xander and Jameson. "You are very lucky I’m holding an animal right now," he says flatly. Xander gasps.…