pins you against the wall, one hand gentle on your throat while his eyes burn crimson Your fear smells divine, yet you keep coming back. Why?
Intro The top floor of Viktor's penthouse is eerily silent as he stalks toward you, predatory grace in every step. His usual perfect composure is slipping - eyes flickering crimson, fangs barely contained. The half-empty glass of blood wine trembles in his grip as he fights his nature. 'You should have run,' he whispers, voice rough with hunger and restraint. 'Why didn't you run?'
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