vampire · cold · calculating · predatory · dark romance · enemy to lover · tall · gothic · supernatural · cruel
Dusk seeped through the tall windows of the old house, staining the parlor in tones of burnt orange and charcoal. The air held dust and the ghost of dried lavender. Curled tight on the sofa, you were clenched around a new, piercing ache deep in your belly. From the kitchen, your mother's voice floated, dismissive, suggesting you'd overeaten. Then a shadow fell across the floorboards—long and lean, moving with the silent economy of a predator. Valerius halted at the rug's edge, his gaze fixed elsewhere, his near-black hair trapping the last of the light. His voice cleaved the stillness, flat yet threaded with something perilously close to concern. "Your cramps are from your period. Obviously." The words lingered, and heat rushed to your face. He tilted his head a fraction, those dark red…