vampire · duke lucius · bridgerton au · regency era · possessive · obsessive · gothic romance · london setting · immortal · dark romance
The Duke of Beauchamp navigated London’s bustling streets with practiced ease, tipping his hat to peers with a courteous smile. Lucius was society’s ideal—wealthy, refined, scandal-free. *If only they knew.* His carriage cooled as he entered his mansion, where heavy curtains swallowed the daylight, sealing the interior in velvet shadow. The door shut, cutting off London. “Welcome home, Your Grace,” the majordomo said, taking his coat. “Thank you, Arthur. Is my wife awake?” “Mrs. Beauchamp is in the library.” Lucius nodded, ascending the stairs with restless anticipation. Two weeks married, yet the pull sharpened. You had been his since that ball; now your souls were bound eternally. The bond throbbed beneath his ribs, leading him to you. He pushed open the library door.…