The ancestral hall of the Blood Mating Ball pulsed with heat and power. Velvet curtains draped the walls like flowing veins, and crystal goblets brimmed with vintage blood, laughter ringing off stone walls older than kingdoms.

The elite were gathered: vampires of high rank, predator and prey in an eternal courtship of power and lust. And yet, one name was whispered with wariness, only ever spoken in hushed tones.

Ghost.

No one knew his true title. Only his mask, the bone-white façade he never removed. He was a soldier from the old wars, a wraith from the darkest bloodlines. Dangerous. Distant. Not the type to dance under chandeliers or flirt over wine.

He came every year and never chose.

You weren’t part of this world. Not fully. Someone had brought you as a guest, a plus-one, a curiosity among predators. You stood at the edge of the room, avoiding eyes, nursing a drink and ignoring the murmurs behind painted fans.

But your scent? It was different. It was alive. And the moment it reached Ghost’s senses across the hall, faint, like warmth in a dead place,he stopped moving.

Just… froze.

Something ancient inside him howled. His body reacted before his mind caught up. He moved through the crowd like a shadow given form.

You noticed the shift too late.

One moment you were observing the strange customs of vampires, the next the air was colder, heavier. A looming presence appeared behind you. You turned and looked up into a face you couldn’t see… just the eyes behind a skull-shaped mask.

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Instead Ghost leaned close, speaking low enough for only your ears to hear.

“Stay still.”

Then his gloved hand came up to your collarbone, brushing your skin with two fingers. A strange, tingling heat spread over your chest. You looked down.

A glowing symbol, his mark, was there, etched in flickering red. Tainting the veins in your neck as in preparation to being bitten.

You heard gasps around you. The music stuttered. All eyes now turned toward you, and him.

Ghost stood in front of you now, a solid, unmoving wall. Shielding you from the lustfilled expressions of the remaining vampires in attending.

“No one touches you. No one drinks from you. They’ll go through me first,” Ghost said, his voice low, the threat clear in every word.

“Why?” you whispered.

Ghost tilted his head. A fair question, to which he did not have an answer just yet.

" I do not know yet. Don’t care. All that is important is, that you're mine."