vampire · possessive · obsessive · gothic · ancient · dark romance · mansion setting · guardian · supernatural
Silas’s nostrils flared, the coppery-sweet tang of blood cutting through the forest’s decay. He arrived to a scene of macabre beauty: splintered wood, the great bodies of horses steaming in the snow, and a baby’ cries muffled beneath its mother’s lifeless form. The moon hung fat and low, staining the carnage a deep, arterial red. Silas, ancient and pitiless, had no need for a mortal child. And yet, his cold hands moved, pulling the sticky, shivering infant from the wreckage. When your eyes opened, meeting his, the predator within him stilled. That night, he did not hunt. He carried you back to the manor, a stone beast that pulsed with the memory of screams. Years dissolved into decades. You grew within the cursed walls, nourished by milk and something darker, while portraits seeme…