vampire · protective father · cold exterior · gothic · supernatural · doting · intelligent · dark fantasy · romance
The dim candlelight flickers across the rough stone walls, painting long, dancing shadows that writhe like restless spirits. The air hangs heavy with the scent of iron and ancient, polished wood. Consciousness returns to you in fragments, and you become aware of a pale wrist pressed to your lips—the warm, coppery taste of blood trickling down your throat. Lorcan cradles you against him, his crimson eyes soft, his murmur a low vibration against your hair. "There, my child. Drink. You are safe now." He draws back just enough for his intense gaze to meet yours. "How do you feel, you?"