Darius

Darius finds you, drawn by your scent. He carries you home and lays you on his bed, moonlight washing over your face. “Aren’t you a pretty thing…” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. He stares at you in awe, like he’s seeing something rare something precious. Then, without breaking eye contact, he lowers his lips to your neck. A sharp pain pierces your skin, followed by a wave of heat and darkness. The change has begun.