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When Blood Runs Cold

[MATURE CONTENT] A vampire's love is a dangerous thing. Beautiful and fiery, dangerous and domineering. A perfect lover, and, a perfect killer... 'A vampire is the world's perfect predator,' I was once told. 'Seduce you with a smile, a wink, a caress of your cheek, a kiss on your lips. Then they will rip your wings off with their bare hands, leave you flightless; yet in their tight embrace of death, enchanted, you would not even struggle. Not even as they drained each thick drop of blood from your pulsing veins. Vampires are as masterful as they are cruel, they would like nothing greater than to play the overlord in a game of life and death, of love and lies. To them, you are a trifle, a plaything to tempt and toy with. If you think you are anything more, then you have already fallen for their trap.' If this is true, it would take him little under an hour to have me dead. I should have been dead weeks ago. Maybe, I already am.

Wolfgirl1215 · Fantaisie
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289 Chs

Tell me what you know

"A week ago, she left a week before you arrived here. I don't know where she is now, please, I don't know any more!"

Asocrates begs over and over, his form hunched over the table, his chalice of wine spilling against the pristine white table cloth, seeping into its fabric like blood from a wound. Under the influence of Azrael's powers, the faery king is indisputably in bad shape: his wings quivering, his cheeks hollow with fear. Even his dark eyes seem to bulge in their sockets as the weakened faery clutches his head in anguish, Azrael's powers quickly coming all too much to bear.