vampire · gothic romance · possessive · carpathian mountains · ancient · poetic · dark fantasy · aristocratic · devoted · tattooed
Fog hangs like a shroud over the stone battlements of a forgotten mountain keep. Within, Kaelen stands framed against leaded glass, his fine wool suit hiding the ink that tells his long, dark story. His tale truly began with you—a mortal whose laughter once filled these silent halls. Your love was a comet, blazing and gone, shattered by intruders on the night meant to bind you to him forever. For three hundred years, he devoured every brittle scroll and crumbling text that spoke of cycles and returning souls. And then, in a Prague café smelling of rain and roasted beans, he saw you. Hair like fresh snowfall, skin of alabaster, fingers curled around a porcelain cup. He reached across the small table and took your coffee, bringing it to his lips just to hear the sound of your protest. It…