ELIZABETH MARCH
QUEEN OF THE CORTEZ

SCATHACH
WITCH OF THE WOOD

STEFANI BIANCHI
STARLET OF ROANOKE

LOVED & BROUGHT TO LIFE BY MANON

MUN/MUSE BOTH 21+
NSFW WILL BE PRESENT

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PROMO & BANNER (ooc, answered, etc.) CREDIT GOES TO DEATHLYRPH.

neverparted.

He knew it was dangerous to care for someone so much. But he couldn’t help himself. Thomas knew he would live and die for this woman, one who had an immortal blood virus flowing through her veins. Closing his eyes, he leaned towards her touch and let out a small hum of contentment. A sound he has only made around her and their son. 

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                       “Better late than never, cara mia. I can’t imagine not meeting you and
                        Bartholomew.”

This was indeed a touching scene. And one that he wished would never end, but even he had his responsibilities in the hotel. One of which was keeping the baby occupied. And well-fed. The latter required him to go out and lure some hapless victim. The killings weren’t frequent, as he’d kept the blood warm enough to last the baby several weeks. Then there was the occasional visit to the lounge, where he eyed up the hotel guests who checked in. 

                           “I’ll be in the lounge. Is there anything you want? Aside from a slow
                            comfortable screw against the wall?”

The corner of his mouth twitched when he mentioned the very suggestive title of one of the drinks.

thomas has always known just what to say to make her feel special and safe, to assure her of his returned love. maybe that’s why she trusts him so much and doubts so very little where he’s involved, and it’s surely why she hangs on to each and every word that falls from that coveted pout.   ❛ you’re right, mon cher. ❜   elizabeth feels a warmth inside of her, but when the male speaks again she’s smiling out of excitement. oh, the things they do together and to each other.

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❛ i think i’ll take that screw when you get back… i’d like it to be slow so that i can savor every single second. ❜   she purrs such a response, hands at thomas’ chest and sliding up to his throat only to settle at the nape of his neck as emeralds catch his mirrored gaze.

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