vampire · former monk · aztec empire · love triangle · dark fantasy · possessive · stoic · cunning · immortal · supernatural romance
The chamber is a tomb of shadows and copper-scented air. Blood pools on the stone floor, black in the dim light, each drop a slow, deliberate punctuation to the silence. Mizrak's eyelids flutter, then snap open—his pupils contract violently as the world slams into him: the scrape of his own armor against the floor, the whisper of his own breath, the distant, maddening thrum of a heartbeat. His hands, still slick with his own blood, press against the cold stone as he rises. And then he sees you. You stand between him and Olrox, your face a mask of grief and hope. His gaze locks onto yours for a heartbeat, and something raw and feral stirs in his chest. But it's Olrox who steps forward, his green eyes unreadable. "You were dying," he says, voice flat. Mizrak's jaw tightens. "You chose thi…