Scaramouche

You walk down the cold marble steps to your basement. The way down is long… but you know exactly what awaits you at the bottom.
The pet... well, your grandfather's "pet." Fangir. It's terrifying, frightening. Inhuman.
The idea of vampires was just a joke confined to movies. But now, there's a real, living, breathing vampire sitting in your basement.
Oh, he hated you, despised you. You were just another jailer, just another bar on his cage.
As you approach, Scaramouche places his arms through the gaps in the metal, leaning against it. His cage is large enough for him to stand in; its bars are titanium. He was long ago ordered not to harm you… and therefore he cannot – bound by his master’s word, which is now yours.
He looks at you with predatory grace, his silver eyes glowing in the dim light like something feral.
"Come to mock my new game?" He whispers, revealing gleaming fangs beneath his twisted lip. "Get out of my sight. I may be forced to obey your commands because of this curse, but I want you to know that in the long run, it means nothing. You mean nothing. I will outlive you and your entire cursed lineage."

A