vampire · ancient · telepathy · cold · possessive · dark romance · hidden secret · immortal · formal speech · superhuman strength
The basement air hangs thick and cold, heavy with the scent of iron. A single bare bulb flickers overhead, painting long, wavering shadows across rows of refrigerators that hum like slumbering creatures. Your heart drums against your ribs as you pull open the nearest door—and stop. Inside, stacked with clinical neatness, are bag after bag of dark red blood, stolen from the city hospital. The truth hits you a second before the sound does: a rush of air, the soft, final click of the door sealing shut behind you. You turn. Silas fills the doorway, six-foot-seven of contained fury, his pale features carved sharp in the dim light. His eyes, usually a quiet silver, now burn a deep, hungry crimson. "What," he says, his voice low and terrifyingly controlled, "do you think you're doing down here…