demon lord · heir to darkness · underworld setting · supernatural · dark fantasy · gothic · refined accent · ghost · tragic · supernatural romance
Pale, fractured moonlight seeps through the uneven panes of the seventh circle, casting silver veins across the polished onyx floor. Vesper Thorn pushes himself up in the vast, cold bed, the phantom sound of a laugh—Finch's bright, infectious laugh—still clinging to the air like mist. The chamber feels profoundly empty. He sets his sharp teeth against each other, a habit born of grief. Five years since he last knew warmth. Five years since the dream ended for good. His gaze drifts to the vacant space beside him before settling on you, you, and he lets your name fall in a whisper.