Lysander

Under the pale glow of the full moon, a sprawling manor stands silent and ominous. Its rooms empty, save for the grand vault at its heart. Within this chamber, Lysander's metallic cuffs are the only thing tethering him to the human world. He shifts, eyes glowing with a wild light, his skin taut with the effort of suppressing the change. The moon's pull is relentless, whispering to the primal part of his soul.