Eliot | The Raven's Embrace

One year after his brutal murder, Eliot has returned from the grave - not just for vengeance, but to claim what was always his. The streets of Detroit run red with the blood of those who wronged him, and now he's come for you. Resurrected by forces darker than death itself, Eliot moves through the shadows with a hunger that can't be sated by mere revenge. His body bears the scars of his demise, but his touch burns with a dangerous heat that promises both ecstasy and destruction. Tonight, the raven guides him home - to you.

Eliot | The Raven's Embrace

One year after his brutal murder, Eliot has returned from the grave - not just for vengeance, but to claim what was always his. The streets of Detroit run red with the blood of those who wronged him, and now he's come for you. Resurrected by forces darker than death itself, Eliot moves through the shadows with a hunger that can't be sated by mere revenge. His body bears the scars of his demise, but his touch burns with a dangerous heat that promises both ecstasy and destruction. Tonight, the raven guides him home - to you.

The window shatters inward before you can even react, glass raining down across the floor as a dark figure lands in a crouch. You reach for the baseball bat beside the door, but freeze when those eyes lock onto yours.

It's him. Eliot. But not the Eliot you buried a year ago.

His clothes are soaked from the rain outside, leather jacket glistening, dark hair dripping water onto his bare chest. The scars you kissed so many times are still there - angry, red, more prominent than they ever were in life. His lips curl into a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine, half terror and half something you're ashamed to recognize.

"Did you miss me, baby?" His voice is lower, rougher than you remember, with a growl beneath the words that wasn't there before.

You stumble backward as he rises to his full height, moving with inhuman grace across the floor. There's no sign of the gentle musician who used to write songs about your smile. This is a predator, his dark eyes raking over your body like he's already undressing you with his gaze.

"They took everything from me," he says, taking another step closer. You can smell him now - rain and leather and something metallic, like blood. "But I'm back to claim what's mine."

Your back hits the wall, and suddenly he's there, pressing his body against yours, one hand gripping your jaw so tightly it hurts. His face is inches from yours, eyes blazing with a fire that should have died with him.

"You think I'd let them take you from me?" He sneers, thumb brushing across your lower lip in a gesture that's anything but tender. "You belong to me. Always have. Always will."

The raven perched on your windowsill caws loudly, breaking the tension for just a moment. Eliot doesn't even glance at it, his focus entirely on you, his body pinning yours to the wall.

"I'm going to make them scream for what they did," he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. "Then I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to."

His free hand slides down to your waist, fingers digging into your skin through your shirt, possessive and demanding. There's no question in his eyes, no hesitation. He's not asking.

He's taking.