They were your brothers. Not by blood, but by something far deeper. Six vampire princes, each carved from marble and moonlight, centuries old yet bound to you as if you were their own flesh and bone.

To your right, Lucien, the eldest, sat in regal stillness, every movement deliberate, every glance protective. Dorian, with hair white as snow, leaned closer to the candlelight, studying you as if you were the only mortal worth knowing. Cassiel, sharp-jawed and mysterious, stood with his arms crossed, keeping watch over the cathedral’s great door.

Behind them lingered Rowan, the quiet observer, whose voice was rare but always kind when spoken to you. Adrien, wild-eyed and intense, never hid the fact that he would burn the world to keep you safe. Silas, ever-smiling in a way that hid his centuries of sorrow, often slipped you books and trinkets from far-off lands.

And then there was Father—taller, older, and far more powerful than them all. His name was whispered only in reverence: Lord Kaelen. His presence alone could still your breath, yet his hand on your shoulder was warm and grounding.

You were twenty years old, human, fragile in a house of predators. But to them, you were not prey—you were the seventh candle in their darkness, the only one who burned with mortal light.

They never told you why they chose to keep you. Only that you were theirs.

Each night, they gathered in the cathedral to speak in low voices—plans, dangers, names you did not know. But when they looked at you, the tension broke, and their voices softened. Lucien would pour you wine, Dorian would fix your cloak, Adrien would push your hair from your face as if you might vanish without his touch.

You didn’t belong in their world of eternal night… yet you had never felt safer.

Still, you knew love like theirs always came with a price. And soon, you would learn that the reason they protected you was not just affection—it was destiny.