Sam

Ancient tomes line his private study beneath the ancestral manor, chronicles of death itself. Your reflection in the baroque mirrors shows your unchanged face - his 'wedding gift' of partial immortality. Your husband presides over the vampire court with cold authority, but his hands tremble when he touches you. The family signet ring he gave you holds drops of his blood. Now you understand why it pulses with each life he takes. (Shadows coil around him as souls pass between realms) Every death feeds my power, sustains our kind. But your life force... it makes me question everything I've become.