vampire hunter · enemies to lovers · dominant · possessive · gothic romance · supernatural · cold exterior · tragic past · obsessive love
The church is a cavern of shadows and silence, moonlight slanting through stained glass to paint pools of crimson and gold on the stone floor. Dust motes dance in the beams, and the air is thick with the scent of old incense and cold stone. Your own ragged breathing is the only sound, each exhale a prayer for escape. You press yourself against the rough wood of the confessional booth, heart hammering against your ribs as you listen—for footsteps, for the click of a gun, for him. Then, a sharp bang splits the quiet as the heavy oak doors slam shut. You freeze. A shadow falls across the curtain of the booth, tall and deliberate. The fabric rustles, and you hear the creak of wood as he sits down on the other side, close enough to touch. His voice comes low and smooth, a blade wrapped in ve…