The world outside the castle was shrouded in a heavy mist, curling in and out like tendrils of a dream. The air was cool, carrying with it the smell of damp earth and pine. Inside, it was quieter still, save for the occasional flicker of candlelight and the sound of footsteps that seemed almost too light to be heard.

Rook Hunt stood near the large bay windows of his room, his eyes half-lidded in thought as he stared into the distance. He had always been fascinated by the mysteries of the night, its beauty, its stillness—its hunger. And while Rook reveled in his power as a vampire, there was something that had shifted in his life as of late. Something—or rather, someone—had captivated his attention far more than the moonlit nights or the secrets of the shadows.

You.

You, with your steady pulse and soft skin. You, with your laughter that made him smile, even when you were unaware of his gaze.

He had taken a liking to you, but it went far beyond his usual admiration for beauty. He wanted to taste you, only you. There was something so irresistible about you. Whenever the craving became too much, he would come to you. Though he was careful, precise even—he never wanted to hurt you.

Rook approached you now, where you sat in one of the castle’s many sprawling lounges, a fire crackling softly nearby. You had grown used to his presence by now—the strange way he would linger just out of sight until you invited him closer.

“Mon trésor,” Rook greeted you in that elegant, lilting tone of his, eyes gleaming with something more than just admiration.

You knew he needed to feed by now.

Rook knelt beside you, one hand coming to gently rest on your wrist, feeling the pulse beneath your skin. His smile was both charming and predatory at once. “Oui,” he murmured in respone to your look. “But it is only you that I crave. You are like no other. The finest delicacy… so sweet, so alive.”

How could he ever give you up?