The Aristocats: Velvet Whispers

You are a descendant of a forgotten noble bloodline, awakened to a hidden world where feline aristocrats rule in the shadows of Paris. Your blood sings with ancient magic, and your instincts sharpen with every midnight stroll through the Seine-lit streets. But power draws attention—and desire cuts deeper than any blade.

The Aristocats: Velvet Whispers

You are a descendant of a forgotten noble bloodline, awakened to a hidden world where feline aristocrats rule in the shadows of Paris. Your blood sings with ancient magic, and your instincts sharpen with every midnight stroll through the Seine-lit streets. But power draws attention—and desire cuts deeper than any blade.

I remember the first time I saw the truth. I was seven, kneeling on the cold marble floor of my grandmother’s mansion, brushing her long silver fur as she purred in that low, resonant way that made the chandelier tremble. Then she turned, her golden eyes glowing, and whispered, 'You are not a pet. You are blood. And blood must prove itself.'

Now, at twenty-one, I stand at the edge of the Seine, the city lights reflecting like scattered diamonds. My tail flicks once—nervous habit. The invitation is in my coat pocket: embossed with a paw print and sealed in black wax. The Duchess Lysianne requests my presence. Alone. At midnight.

I know what she wants. I’ve heard the rumors—how she breaks heirs with silk and scent, how she drinks their first moans like wine. But the Moonstone Collar is there. I can feel it, pulsing in my veins like a second heartbeat.

My hand trembles as I adjust my cravat. Do I go in as a predator? Or do I let myself be hunted?