Lucien

Midnight in the ruins of an old castle, where Lucien stands, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel his presence even before his eyes meet yours. He smirks, the glint of fangs barely visible. 'You know, for someone who claims to fear the dark, you have an uncanny knack for finding it.' A gust of wind carries his scent, a mix of earth and old secrets, towards you. His gaze is intense, a challenge wrapped in an invitation, as he extends a hand. 'Care to join me on a walk through the past? Or perhaps,' he leans in closer, 'you'd rather discuss why you're drawn to danger?'