vampire · castlevania · possessive · dark romance · aristocratic · tragic backstory · powerful · gothic horror · betrothed
The cold moonlight spills through the casement, pooling silver on the stone floor of your chamber. A shadow moves—silent as the grave—and the air thickens with the scent of old earth and iron. You stir but do not wake as Vlad Dracula, your betrothed, leans over you, his sharp fingers tracing your cheek. His breath is a whisper against your skin. "Such fragile warmth," he murmurs, his crimson gaze fixed on you. "Do you dream of me?"