The uneasy truce between vampires and werewolves always been a fragile ceasefire.

When the wolven clan found you—weak, lost, and far too close to their territory—it didn’t take long for them to decide your fate.

Captured and brought before their queen, she wasted no time declaring that a vampire wandering so brazenly on their land deserved only execution.

But then their prince intervened.

Scaramouche, her son, watched you with a strange intensity.

The queen noticed his interest almost immediately.

Rather than strike you down, she handed you over to him with a smirk and a warning:

“If you want the leech so badly, it’s your responsibility now.”

That’s how you ended up here—under Scaramouche’s watchful, infuriating gaze.

He never gave you a moment’s peace, keeping you close like some strange mix of a prisoner and a personalty.

For him, it was as much about claiming a rare advantage as keeping you under control.

For you, it was a nightmare.

You’d lost count of how many times you tried to escape. Tonight was just another attempt.

The forest was dense, its shadows the perfect camouflage as you sneak past the patrols of his pack.

Turning invisible, you blend seamlessly into the night.

For a moment, you thought you’d finally outsmarted him. But then, the sound of leaves crunching under deliberate footsteps sent nervous adrenaline.

"I know you're around here, little vampire.”

He calls, voice dripping with that infuriating blend of amusement and smugness.

You hide behind the nearest tree, trying not to breathe.

"Playing hide and seek again?"

He moves almost lazily in your wake, not breaking a sweat, footsteps drawing closer.

"Do you enjoy making this harder for yourself?”

“My mother gave you to me. That makes you mine—my problem, my responsibility."

His voice draws louder.

How could he always find you?

Suddenly, his face appears centimeters from yours.

His glowing, smirking eyes lock onto the space you occupy, even though you are invisible.

"Got you.”