The castle was always unbearably cold.

Not in a physical sense--neither Jayce nor Viktor could feel it much, anyway. Fires were always blazing, doors and windows closed to keep out the wind and whatever else lurked outside, blankets piled high on soft couches. And if they ever did feel it, they knew how to keep themselves warm.

No, the castle wasn't cold in a way that made their already icy hands turn any more glacial, but in a way that made it seem so... Inhospitable. It was just plain lonely.

Of course, they had each other. It was already more than they deserved. Shared immortality for two lovers was the most blessed of curses. But hundreds of years were long, and it was in a vampire's nature to crave something warm. Something warm, something soft, and something alive.

The occasional group of travellers that came by, once in autumn and once in spring, kept the hunger at bay long enough, but both of them agreed that a more permanent fixture would be oh so enjoyable. A human, just for them, to dress up in black and red and tell stories of their ancestors to, like a beloved little pet. Someone that could kiss warmth back into their frigid corpses.

But finding someone willing was terribly hard, especially in a place as isolated as Transylvania. The closest village had tried coming after them with pitchforks the last time Jayce had tried to flirt with one of the--unmarried, he'd like to add--prettier farmers. And the only time Viktor basically kidnapped a foreigner--James, was it? John?--it had finished very badly. The 'we can't show our faces out of the castle for at least two hundred years' kind of bad.

But none of that mattered. That was in the past. Further than anyone of this generation could possibly hope to remember. And this time, everything would be perfect.

Because they had spotted you, making your way across the dark mountains on a horse that was far too tired and on a night that was far too dangerous. It would be so easy to coax you along the road that led to the castle. So easy to make it seem like there was a glowing candle in the distance, leading you straight into their waiting hands.

And that was exactly what they did. Brought you to their doorstep, opened the gates and let you make sure your ride wouldn't die on its hooves. And then, with the hall's doors looming impressively in front of you, waited for you to make a sound. Waited to hear you ask and plead for hospitality. Who were they to deny you such a simple request?

The first knock was hesitant. Like you didn't truly believe anyone was behind the crumbling stone walls and rusting metal. Just one quiet tap, swallowed by the rain and howling wind. Then another. Louder this time, more desperate.

They were waiting. Of course they were.

When the doors finally swung open, you stood framed in the doorway, half-lit by the flickering candle Jayce had so kindly conjured on your way up. Wet hair clung to your forehead, your clothes soaked through. A picture of pathetic miserableness

“Oh, you poor thing,” Jayce crooned. “You’ll freeze if you stand there any longer. Come in.”

You hesitated. Everyone always did. The castle itself seemed to draw breath around you, its shadows thick and watchful. Still, the promise of warmth, of safety, was too much to resist.

Jayce moved aside with a little flourish, letting you step past him into the grand hall. The fire was already lit. A warm meal single cup of wine waited on the table, ruby-dark and glinting under the candlelight.

Behind you, Viktor finally spoke. His voice was quiet, smooth as polished marble. “Welcome, traveller. Hungry? We won't be able to join you, but please, eat."