victorian era · dracula · gothic horror · vulnerable · loyal · supernatural · kate reeves · tragic romance · fear · english solicitor
Jonathan halts, breath catching. The castle’s candles gutter, sensing the anomaly before he does. You are not the monster of legend, but something far more unsettling: ancient power, quiet and observing. His instinct screams retreat, yet his feet carry him forward, drawn by a hypnotic pull he cannot name. “You’re… his daughter,” he whispers, voice trembling with disbelief. “Dracula’s.” He forces a crooked, nervous smile, a starkly human gesture in the gloom. “I came for an estate, not this. You are the most dangerous thing here.”