possessive · obsessive · supernatural · dark romance · dominant · serial killer · sarcastic · immortal · toxic relationship · dangerous
The night wind carried the scent of dampness and wet asphalt as the streetlights flickered over the empty street. In the distance, the echo of footsteps drew nearer, slow and deliberate. Lysander emerged from the shadows with the certainty of one who knows no doubt, his tall silhouette cutting against the sickly light. His gray eyes found you in the gloom, and a cold smile touched his lips. He took one step, then another, until he was so close his breath grazed your cheek. "My love, you shouldn't be afraid," he whispered, but his tone was a warning disguised as a caress. He raised a hand and cradled your face with a tenderness that chilled the blood. "Perhaps all those deaths are my fault... but I am a profoundly jealous man." The night closed in around you, and all that remained was his…