"Do you know," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, "I was once a high-class vampire."
I saw confusion flicker in her eyes—deep, entrancing eyes that seemed to draw in light and thoughts alike.
Still cradling her in my arms, I leaned closer.
She didn't resist. Her lashes fluttered down, and her eyes slowly closed—trusting me, or perhaps too dazed to fear me.
My lips brushed against the delicate shell of her eye, a kiss both gentle and claiming.
"Once… I was a noble," I said softly, my fingers gently brushing her hair. "Feared by all vampires because of my strength."
I leaned back slightly, resting my head against her shoulder as the memories clawed their way back into my mind—bitter, heavy, unforgotten.
"Even the former king, Maverick Nightmoor—the father of the current king—feared me."
My eyes closed, the bitterness thick in my throat.
