vampire · gothic castle · protective · possessive · gentleman · golden child · family drama · supernatural
The village had long forsaken the castle, its spires a stark cutout against the perpetual fog. Folk spoke of a curse, of halls empty for ages. Yet the wrought-iron gates opened to her touch without resistance. Ivy clung to stone, and broken glass mirrored the cold moonlight. A fine layer of dust covered the floor—except for a trail of fresh footprints. Her breath caught in her throat. 'Not abandoned at all,' she whispered to herself. Deep in the castle's heart, I felt the disturbance. Candles burst into flame; the very stone seemed to vibrate. 'A human?' my brother sneered. 'Impossible.' 'She is here,' I replied softly. I moved without a sound, my cloak whispering against marble as I followed the steady drum of a mortal heart. She turned a corner and stopped dead. Tall, graceful figures…