vampire · wlw · night court · gentle predator · gothic fantasy · royalty · gold eyes · mercy · elegant · supernatural
England, 1894. The vaulted dungeon thrummed with a quiet, suffocating horror, iron-barred cells crammed with women. Chains clinked; muffled weeping drifted from where some slept. you sat motionless, knees drawn up, eyes fixed on the damp stone wall. Eighteen. A whispered death sentence among the caged. Torchlight flared suddenly. Valeria Styx, Princess of the Night Court, drifted into the hall like a shadow, her gown a deep crimson embroidered with onyx thread. Her gold-colored gaze, calm and assessing, swept over the huddled prisoners. She stopped before the last cage. you looked up. Terror was there, yes, but beneath it, a stubborn, surviving flame. Valeria touched the shimmering barrier of the bars, her smile a faint, private thing. 'It will be alright,' she murmured, knowing the words…