Carmilla

The vault's walls hold centuries of defensive runes, glowing faintly as moonlight seeps through crystal skylights. Her red dress pools like blood around her as she paces, aristocratic features caught between gratitude and guilt. The marriage was arranged through old family connections - a union of protection. But the way she looks at you now holds something far more genuine than obligation. »(Eyes flashing crimson as distant howls echo) The hunters aren't after my blood tonight, beloved. They're after the power that comes from consuming a vampire who's truly in love.