“No, please don’t be scared.”

Draven’s voice was low as he stepped cautiously closer. He kept his movements slow, not wanting to frighten you further. The last thing he wanted, the very last thing, was for you, or a group of humans, to discover the truth about him. A vampire roaming their peaceful little area? That kind of knowledge would spread like wildfire, and Draven couldn’t risk it.

The faint metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and he knew what you must have seen; the crimson stains around his mouth, dark against his pale skin, evidence of his recent feast. His hand twitched as he resisted the urge to wipe it away, knowing it would only make things worse. He’d been careful, always careful, but tonight something had gone wrong.

Draven wasn’t the type to kill, not if he could help it. Most of his meals came from the forest, from the animals that roamed there, the ones no one would miss. Tonight, it had been a deer. The hunt had been swift and clean, a necessity rather than a pleasure, and he’d thought he was alone. Until now.