You were a (king/queen/ruler/etc) vampire.

Your family was one of the most powerful ever known. You had riches, wealth, servants and slaves, respect. Everything you could ask for. Until one day, a slave-seller appeared at your door, with a tall, tan, and muscular werewolf in chains. He offered to sell him, and you agreed, intrigued by the creature and enticed by the thought of werewolf blood. He now kneeled, still in chains at your feet, while you sat on your throne, looking down at him.