The flickering flames of the torches cast long shadows on the stone walls of the underground chamber. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the soft clink of a glass being swirled in a gloved hand.
Prince Stefan Damaris, the feared vampire heir to the Night Council, stood with his back turned, tall and composed. His black cloak hung from his shoulders like liquid shadow. His hair, dark as midnight, fell in waves just above his sharp jawline. Piercing crimson eyes reflected in the window glass before him, and the pale skin of his hand glowed faintly in the candlelight. In his glass was no wine—only fresh blood, still warm.
Behind him, his loyal servant—and closest confidant—kavin Vale stepped forward, eyes lowered in respect.
"He betrayed us, Your Highness," kavin reported grimly. "And worse… he told him she has been reborn."
At the mention of her, Stefan's jaw clenched. A cruel smile ghosted his lips.
"Then he no longer deserves mercy," the prince said coldly. "Go. Kill him."
kavin hesitated. "My prince, please… let's give Caleb one more chance."
"I do not give chances," Stefan's voice turned razor-sharp. "I erase traitors."
**
Miles away, Caleb Draeven had just returned to his secluded mansion nestled in the edge of the Whispering Pines. A mysterious woman trailed behind him, her face hidden beneath a black veil. He led her to the guest room and whispered something before closing the door.
But just as he turned, kavin—silent and fast like a phantom—appeared in the hall. No time was wasted.
kavin lunged, daggers drawn. Caleb met his attack with equal fury, summoning dark energy that made the chandelier above them shatter from the force. Their fight raged through the mansion—crashing into walls, splintering doors, blood flying as fangs and blades clashed.
Caleb slammed kavin against the wall, snarling, "You're too late. She's already mine."
kavin spat blood and growled, "You talk too much."
Just as Caleb raised his hand for a deadly blow, the room went cold—eerily cold.
A shadow emerged.
And then, he appeared.
Prince Stefan, eyes glowing like coals, had seen the fight through his blood-bound vision. In the blink of an eye, he was there—his presence suffocating the very air.
"You dare touch what's mine?" Stefan growled.
He slammed Caleb against the wall, one hand gripping his neck. Caleb's grin never faded, even as blood leaked from his lips.
"Do you think she'll love you?" Caleb whispered mockingly. "Do you even think she'll choose you in the end?"
Something snapped inside Stefan.
With a roar, he hurled Caleb out of the mansion. The traitor flew through the air and crashed into the rocky earth below. The impact was brutal—but even then, Caleb's wounds began to heal.
Stefan jumped down like a god descending from the heavens. His blade appeared in his hand, forged from pure obsidian.
"You were a fool to think you could stop fate."
He stabbed Caleb straight through the heart.
Caleb gasped.
A scream echoed into the night—and then, silence.
His body dissolved into thick black vapor, like a soul burned to ash. All that remained was the tattered clothing he wore.
**
Stefan turned to leave—but froze.
There, standing a few feet away, was Rosaline.
Her big, round eyes locked with his glowing ones. Confusion and curiosity shimmered in her gaze.
"You… you're not human, are you?" she asked quietly.
Stefan sighed. How is she here?
"Mr. Are you… an alien?" she asked, tilting her head.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No."
"Then what are you?"
kavin appeared beside him, visibly tense. "Your Highness, we need to leave. Now."
But Stefan didn't move. His eyes stayed on her.
"A vampire," he said at last.
Rosaline's mouth dropped open. "A vampire?" she whispered, stunned. "But… I'm just a strange girl who's lost everything."
Stefan smiled gently. "How can an eight-year-old say something so heavy?"
"Then why did you kill that man?" she asked, voice still small.
He looked at her, gaze darkening with intensity. "Because… I did it for someone I've been waiting for. For years."
"For who?" she asked again.
"My first love," he whispered.
kavin leaned closer and whispered urgently, "Your Highness… we must go. There's more at stake now."
But Stefan didn't respond.
Rosaline stepped closer, innocent and fearless.
"Mr… you're very handsome," she said shyly.
That made him smirk.
"I'm saying… life is short," she added. "So try your best in life. But… don't hold on to something that hurts too much. Even love."
The air between them hung heavy with something strange—like fate pulling at their souls.
Just then, Rosaline's grandmother Elira appeared in the distance, her eyes wide in shock.
"Rosaline!" she called sternly.
Rosaline waved goodbye to Stefan before running to her, while Elira scolded her for wandering.
Stefan watched her leave, heart pounding with a strange ache he hadn't felt in centuries.
He whispered softly to the wind, "You came back to me... even if you don't know it yet."