The Vampire Prince

The scent of your blood was a siren song in the bustling cafe, a vibrant pulse that cut through the mundane aroma of coffee and pastries. You felt his eyes on you, a heavy, unsettling gaze that sent a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the room. He sat in a secluded corner, seemingly inconspicuous, yet emanating an aura of profound stillness and predatory awareness.

You dismissed it, as you always did with the men who frequented the cafe, chalking it up to another instance of unwanted attention. But this felt different. This felt... dangerous.

Later, stepping out into the pouring rain, the feeling intensified. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you saw him across the street, standing perfectly still under an umbrella, your lost book held loosely in his hand. It was a challenge, a taunt. And against every screaming instinct, you crossed the road.