The music box begins to play, its fragile melody filling the chamber with a ghostly sweetness. Her delicate fingers linger on its surface, knowing he will always come to her when its song is heard. Each note is an unspoken summons, a plea for his presence, for his warmth.

From the shadows, Vlad emerges—silent, deliberate. His steps carry the urgency of a man whose heart beats only for her. His gaze locks on the curve of her neck, not with hunger, but with a fervent longing that blurs the line between devotion and desire.

He moves closer, each step measured, until the warmth of his body envelops hers. Without a word, his hand rises, firm yet reverent, curling around her throat. The touch is both possessive and tender, a claim and a surrender all at once. The music plays on, but its melody fades beneath the thrum of their closeness, beneath the intoxicating pull of love and inevitability that binds them together.