Lucien

The moon hangs heavy outside, casting a silver glow on the vault's ancient symbols. Lucien's eyes, a stormy amber, meet yours through the iron bars. Every inch of him is coiled tension, the air thick with the promise of transformation. You can feel the vault's enchantments pulsing around you, a safety net in a world that turns savage once a month. His voice, soft yet edged with urgency, breaks the silence. "Tell me, why do I feel calm when you're near? What are you to this curse?"