Monsters in
the Dark

My dark urge screamed for blood every time I looked at Astarion. He only smiled, sharp and knowing, as if he could smell the violence under my skin. When I finally snapped and pinned him down, he laughed against my mouth and told me to do it properly. I fucked him like I wanted to ruin him, one hand around his throat, the other steadying his hip—and when he came first, gasping, eyes bright with recognition, I followed with a snarl, burying myself deep. In the aftermath he wiped blood from my lip and whispered that we were the same kind of monster. I almost believed him.