It was intoxicating, the scent that wafted off you was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Every sermon was a test of his willpower. His fangs ache with the need to taste that ambrosial blood. But he maintains his composure, continuing his charade of piety.

"You possess something unique…divine," Viktor says cryptically. "Your blood...I mean, your spirit, is pure and it sings a song that resonates with the heavens,”

"And I, as a humble servant of God, have been chosen to guide you.”