The Great Hall of the Academia glittered with golden chandeliers and enchanted lanterns that floated midair, casting soft amber light over the hall. Velvet drapes of burgundy and obsidian lined the tall windows, and a live orchestra composed of sirens and fairies played an elegant tune.
Just three weeks into their first term, and already the new students were swept into one of the Academia's most prestigious traditions. The invitations had appeared under their doors five days ago—heavy parchment sealed with golden wax, announcing that first-years were required to attend the annual Autumn Ball.
Tonight wasn't just the Academia's annual Autumn Ball. It was the 150th anniversary of the peace alliance between all paranormal species, a sacred day commemorating unity, a ceasefire to centuries of bloodshed.
But for Valeria, the night was suffocating.
She stood near the grand staircase in a dark crimson gown that shimmered like fresh blood. She'd hoped to blend in, to be just another first-year student finding her place. Instead, the vampire nobles flocked to her like moths to flame, their interest piqued the moment her name appeared on the Academia's enrollment list.
"Lady Valeria," drawled a pale vampire with a jeweled cane and slicked-back hair. "An honor to finally meet a direct heir of the Valemont Clan. Your lineage is unmatched."
"Your dress is divine," said another, a female vampire with fanged smiles and diamonds for eyes. "I imagine it's custom-made in the blood silks of the East?"
"Your presence tonight blesses us," gushed yet another. "Surely you'll consider a future alliance with House Duskveil. Our bloodlines are compatible."
Valeria forced a tight smile. "Excuse me."
She turned away from the crowd of admirers, her eyes flashing red with irritation. Ember appeared by her side, sipping a sparkling fruit elixir. In the three weeks they'd known each other, Ember had become the closest thing to a friend Valeria had found at the Academia.
"You look like you're about to murder someone," Ember whispered.
Valeria's voice dropped to a mutter, frustration barely contained. "I just might. They keep treating me like some damn crown jewel. I thought coming here as a first-year would give me anonymity, at least for a while."
Ember raised an eyebrow, her tone a bit dry. "You are vampire royalty, after all. Did you really think enrolling at the Academia would change that?"
"Exactly why I hate it," Valeria snapped, glancing over the crowded room filled with faces she'd barely had time to learn in their first weeks of classes.
A vampire noble, eager and too bold, approached them. He leaned in with practiced charm. "A dance, perhaps?"
Valeria's glare was sharp. "No."
He didn't seem to take the hint, undeterred. "Maybe a walk around the hall?"
"No."
"May I at least pour you a drink—"
Valeria didn't even let him finish, her voice cold and final. "No."
The noble recoiled, stunned by the force of her rejection. He stood there, unsure what to do next. Valeria, her gaze already turned away, locked eyes with Ember, desperation evident. "I need air. I need silence. I need out."
Ember nodded, pointing toward the side exit behind the band.
"Take the path through the kitchen. Leads straight to the rose garden. I discovered it during orientation week, and I go there when I want to be alone."
Valeria didn't hesitate. She weaved through the crowd, brushing off a dozen more greetings until she slipped out into the cold, quiet night. The music faded behind her.
The rose garden was bathed in moonlight. Bushes heavy with red and white blossoms lined the stone paths, and the fountain in the center glistened with silver droplets. She inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe.
"Peace," she whispered, walking between the rows. "Finally."
She reached out to touch a crimson rose, but its thorns nicked her finger. A thin line of blood formed, glistening like a ruby.
"Damn it," she muttered.
She sucked the blood from her finger, but the scent lingered in the air, potent and rich. She didn't realize someone had entered the garden until she heard the deliberate crunch of boots on gravel.
"Lovely night for a bloodbath, isn't it?"
Valeria turned sharply. A tall vampire with silver-blond hair and an arrogant smirk stood beneath the arbor.
Lucien Drelbourne.
She recognized him from Magical Theory class—always sitting in the back, surrounded by his entourage. He was draped in violet and gold, his eyes the color of withered lilacs, his expression soaked in entitlement. He was a prince of House Drelbourne, another ancient vampire clan known for their cruelty and obsession with power.
"Should've known you'd slither out here, Lucien," Valeria said coldly.
Lucien chuckled. "I saw you leave the ball. You looked... distressed. I thought you might need company."
"I don't."
"Don't be like that, Valeria," he said, stepping closer. "You and I both know we belong together. House Drelbourne and House Nightborne—two royal clans, equal in power. Imagine the fear we'd command."
"Imagine the nausea."
He tilted his head. "You're witty. I like that."
"Too bad I don't like you."
Lucien's smirk twisted. "Don't flatter yourself. I don't want you for your personality. I want what your name carries. Power. Influence. You don't have to like me. We just need to use each other."
Valeria stepped back. "I'd rather rot."
His voice darkened. "You think you have a choice? You think they'll let a royal like you run around unclaimed forever? Even as a first-year, you must know how this works."
"Touch me, and you lose a hand."
But Lucien advanced, faster now, his presence suddenly menacing.
"Don't pretend you're not tempted. Our bloodlines were designed to rule. Don't you feel it? That craving?"
Valeria's eyes flared red. "Get. Away. From me."
He reached for her arm.
"Don't be stupid, Valeria. I'm offering you the future—"
The temperature in the garden plummeted. Frost crystalized on the roses, spreading like delicate lace across the petals. From the entrance came a low, feral growl that seemed to vibrate through the stone path itself.
"Get away from my mate."
The voice hit like thunder.
Lucien froze. Slowly, both he and Valeria turned toward the sound.
It was Lucien who broke the silence. "What the hell did you say?"
Tristan stood at the garden entrance, his shoulders squared, eyes blazing amber-gold. His suit jacket was half-unbuttoned, his fists clenched. The air around him pulsed with barely restrained power. "I said...Get. Away. From. My. Mate."
Valeria's breath caught.