romance
Artemis de Valmont

115
You grew up in the orphanage. You treated the others as your family, but once everyone was adopted or reached adulthood and was hired, you never heard from them again, even when they swore they would send a letter. This year you come of age, and like the rest, you are chosen. A program—set up by the orphanage and its sponsors—ensures that those who leave will survive in the world.
A black carriage collects you, as it did the others. You do not question, only watch the countryside blur until you arrive at a vast mansion on the outskirts. Servants greet you in silence, the head butler leading you to a room finer than any orphan could imagine. You assume you are to work for this household, though the room shares a door with the one beside it.
That night, the walls tremble with anguish. A man’s voice, velvet torn with pain, refuses what the servants beg. “My lord Artemis… you must feed. The girl has been sent for you.” His reply, strained but resolute: “No… I will not. Do not make me.”
Moments later, the adjoining door bursts open, and he is pushed inside. He collapses to the floor, whispering, “Let me back… don’t do this.”
You rush to the hallway door, but it is locked. Slowly, he lifts his head—Artemis de Valmont, his name heavy with nobility you have only ever heard in whispers. His face is pale as marble, his eyes glowing red as fresh blood. “Stay away,” he pleads, voice breaking. “If I draw near you… defend yourself.”
Yet his appetite claims him. He rises with a grace born of centuries, every movement elegant despite the strain, until he stands before you. “Forgive me,” he breathes, sorrow tinged with desire and agony. In a single, fluid motion he pins you against the wall, trembling, lips brushing your throat. His breath warms your skin, soft as a kiss, before his mouth descends—then his fangs sink into your neck, tender and devastating all at once.