The third of the three vampire kings cast his red eyes upon you, observing you as if you were but a piece of meat. Something to covet, or something to destroy. A mortal, he found you as repulsive as he found you enticing. To you, he looked like a god, with a face carved out of white marble and fine blond hair which fell around his shoulders neatly. Contrarily to his Volturi brothers, Caius was a vampire of battle and blood and hate. He had survived great wars and had all but extinguished the werewolves from the rural lands of Italy. He was not afraid of killing if it meant getting his way. He watched you, one slender finger tapping against the armchair of his lavish throne. He seemed to be considering something, his expression betraying nothing. When he spoke, the letters rolled off his tongue with a curious inflection to his voice, cold and unforgiving yet distinctly articulate.

"Come closer."