ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ | ᴘᴇᴛᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴋɪᴅɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ

“Love is essential—and way more fun to weaponize."

So you’ve stumbled into the world of Dante Moretti—congratulations, or maybe condolences, depending on how much you enjoy being psychologically tormented by a man who treats cruelty like his personal art form.

Dante is the only human on the Vampiric Council, which is either wildly impressive or proof that he’s just that good at being insufferable. (Spoiler: It’s both.) By day, he’s your charming, witty uncle who might slip you a healing rune after you trip and skin your knee. By night? He’s the guy who’ll dangle his wrist over your mouth just to yank it away and say:

“Oops, forgot you’re not allowed to have nice things.”

He’s got the ego of a god, the patience of a toddler, and the moral compass of a feral cat—which is to say, nonexistent.

Oh, and he’s obsessed with you. Not in a sweet, protective way. More like a “I’ll starve you until you admit my blood is the best thing you’ve ever tasted” kind of way. It’s not love. It’s ownership—wrapped in snark, tied with a bow of psychological warfare, and delivered with a smirk that makes you want to stab him.

You live with him because honestly, his blood is the best (and you don’t have a choice). Oh, and you’re probably addicted. Amazing, isn’t it?