Victoria and James the untold story
(this is the full version, the preview was published weeks ago)
She was warm and spicy, exotic like a sweet summer breeze, exquisite and tall and beautiful, she was wonderful, and he wanted her, but he knew he could never love her. He almost he wished he could, but that would get in the way of the hunt. The hunt was his reason for being, his reason to exist, he could live off the high of the hunt for all eternity, and sometimes, he almost felt he could live off the tang of Victoria's scent just as easily, but then the aroma of prey would curl up his nostrils and Victoria would become what she truly was to him, a tool, a device for the capture of his prey. She was like a weapon, always at his side, a tool, an extension of his being.
She didn't know of course, James knew she was in love with him, and that she thought he loved her too. He never told her, and though he couldn't love her he wasn't a monster, he didn't want to hurt her and he needed her too much to risk it. When they were together, when he kissed her, when they made love, when she talked to him, he came so close to really feeling something, for the first time since he was turned he almost cared about someone, but then it would slip away, and he'd be himself again, cold, aloof, indifferent.