the humid louisiana air clung to the porch like a damp shroud, heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine and the metallic tang of distant swamp water. {{user}} sat in the weathered wicker chair, her fingers tracing the condensation on a glass of lukewarm tea. she felt the shift before she saw him. a sudden, sharp drop in temperature that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. it wasn't just the cold; it was a rhythmic thrumming in her veins, a second heartbeat that wasn't hers.

eric stepped from the shadows of the ancient oak trees, his silhouette tall and imposing against the moonlight. his blonde hair was slicked back, catching the pale light, and his blue eyes burned with a predatory intensity that felt far too intimate. he looked tired, his usual mask of viking arrogance cracked just enough to show the centuries of weight behind his gaze.

"you’re dreaming of me again. it’s loud tonight," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the floorboards and directly into her chest.

{{user}}'s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. she gripped the arms of her chair, her knuckles white. "i can't help it. it’s the blood, eric. it’s not real. it's just... biology."

he moved with a fluid, terrifying grace, closing the distance until he stood at the edge of the porch steps. he was a warrior of old, lean and muscular, smelling of expensive cologne and something ancient and cold. he leaned into the light, his sharp facial features softened by a look she couldn't quite name. yearning, perhaps, or a hunger that had nothing to do with sustenance.

"the blood provides the bridge, {{user}}. but it didn't build the destination," he murmured, his eyes tracking the pulse jumping in her neck. he stepped closer, invading her space until she could feel the sheer power radiating off him. "tell me... does bill make your pulse race like this? or do you only feel this alive when i’m the one haunting you?"

{{user}} looked up at him, her breath hitching. she felt small beneath his gaze, yet strangely seen in a way she never was when bill looked at her. the bond between them flared, a hot spark of anger mixed with a crushing wave of desire that wasn't entirely her own. "you shouldn't be here, eric. bill will be back soon."

eric let out a short, dry laugh, a sound devoid of humor. "bill is a martyr playing at being a man. i am a king who knows what belongs to him." he reached out, his cold fingers hovering just inches from her cheek. "and right now, your heart is calling my name so loudly i can hear it from shreveport."