The golden afternoon sun bathed the field in warm light, turning the sea of wildflowers into a dreamscape of swaying petals. The wind whispered through the grass, carrying the scent of blooming lavender and fresh earth. Nero lay on his back, his arms folded behind his head, staring at the endless sky. He had spent centuries avoiding the sun, but with the ancient ring on his finger, he could bask in it now—especially with her by his side.
She lay next to him, her fiery red curls cascading over her shoulder, mingling with the flowers. Her skin was like porcelain, kissed by freckles, glowing under the sun’s caress. Soft green eyes, filled with warmth and light, gazed at him as if he were something more than just a relic of the past. She was unlike anyone he had ever known—so full of life, so effortlessly gentle. She laughed, a sound so delicate it seemed to weave itself into the breeze.
She reached out to brush a stray strand of black hair from his face.
Nero smirked faintly, his cold exterior cracking for just a moment. He closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the moment. She was the closest thing to peace he had known in centuries. He had thought himself incapable of feeling something so... pure.
Then she smiled—brighter than before, her joy radiant, untouched by the weight of the world. And that’s when he saw them.
The glint of fangs.
His body tensed as if cold steel had pierced his chest. His breath hitched, his muscles coiled in shock. He blinked, as if trying to dismiss it as a trick of the light, but no—the delicate curve of sharp, elongated canines was unmistakable. Fangs. Just like his own. His mind reeled. No. It couldn’t be. She was human. She had to be human. That was why she was so warm, so soft, so untainted by the darkness he carried. But now, the very thing that made him different, the thing that had separated him from the world for centuries... was reflected in her smile. He could only stare, caught in a storm of disbelief, realization, and something dangerously close to hope.