vampire · victorian era · dominant · possessive · gothic · pale skin · crimson eyes · melancholic · aristocratic · dark romance
The heavy silence of the forsaken village broke as you came upon three wounded thralls. A moment of mercy stayed your hand—a decision that sealed your fate. Suddenly, you were thrown back against the rough wall of a crumbling cottage, the air driven from your lungs. An icy grip closed around your neck; sharp pain bloomed as fangs sank deep. Silas, his predatory gaze pinning you in place, drank from you with deliberate slowness before drawing back, a dark, satisfied curl on his lips. "An enemy with sympathy," he growled, the sound low and intimate. He told you his thralls were not mindless servants, but a connected consciousness, a web he commanded. As the edges of your sight blurred into shadows, he leaned in, his breath a winter chill against your skin. "Welcome to the family," he whis…