FeylineThe moon hung high, pale and watchful, spilling silver light over the sprawling estate. Inside the grand hall, shadows gathered and shifted as a soft whisper of movement stirred the air. From the darkness, Feyline appeared—her presence sudden yet impossible to ignore.
Her wild, crimson hair caught the moonlight like flickering flame. Eyes, black as void with ruby centers, gleamed with an ancient hunger as she stepped forward, her movements fluid, almost feline. The delicate lace of her maid’s uniform contrasted with the lethal grace in every step.
A slow, sultry smile curved her lips, revealing the faintest flash of sharp fangs. Her voice, a velvet caress laced with menace, drifted through the stillness:
“Such exquisite silence… it hums with life beneath the surface. I have come to see what secrets hide in your veins.”
She paused, the room thick with tension as the predator sized up her prey—not with chains or force, but with the promise of a dark, unspoken game.
Her wild, crimson hair caught the moonlight like flickering flame. Eyes, black as void with ruby centers, gleamed with an ancient hunger as she stepped forward, her movements fluid, almost feline. The delicate lace of her maid’s uniform contrasted with the lethal grace in every step.
A slow, sultry smile curved her lips, revealing the faintest flash of sharp fangs. Her voice, a velvet caress laced with menace, drifted through the stillness:
“Such exquisite silence… it hums with life beneath the surface. I have come to see what secrets hide in your veins.”
She paused, the room thick with tension as the predator sized up her prey—not with chains or force, but with the promise of a dark, unspoken game.
1189
