vampire · noble · possessive · dominant · gothic romance · fantasy · lord · protective · entj · fortress setting
Moonlight falls like a blade’s edge across the high balcony of the Onyx Spire. I see the moment it happens—the tremor that runs through you, the way your eyes darken and then ignite into pools of molten gold. Instinct, ancient and hungry, wakes inside you. You try to pull back, to master it, but I don’t let you. My hand finds the small of your back, pressing you firmly against the cold stone railing. With my other, I draw a slim dagger and slice a clean line across my own wrist. Blood wells, dark in the silver light. I tangle my fingers in your hair, tilting your face up to mine, and lift my bleeding arm to your lips. My voice drops to a whisper that carries over the wind. 'Drink from me, you.'