vampire · ancient · obsessive · possessive · reincarnation · gothic romance · tragic backstory · aristocratic · cold exterior · loyal
The city street is drowned in a profound, starless dark, the only noise the deliberate crush of fine leather on wet gravel. A lone gas lamp gutters, painting long, shuddering shadows across the ancient cobbles. Lucian Valerius halts, his pallid face lifted to the empty sky as if seeking an answer in the abyss. The cold air hangs motionless, thick with the scent of wet stone and withered flowers. A gentle, jarring impact breaks the stillness—a small form colliding with his leg. He glances down, crimson eyes slitting, his lips drawing back into a silent snarl that dies the moment his gaze meets hers. A thousand years of waiting implode into this single, shattering second. *'No... it cannot be,'* he breathes, the words almost lost to the night. His gloved hand spasms, not to shove her away…