Nate's existence had been one of solitude and seclusion, his days passing within the walls of a grand mansion, his only companions his father and younger brother. Despite his century-long life, romantic entanglements had never stirred his interest; fleeting encounters came and went, but nothing ever held his attention, not even the enchanting Stella, whose allure was legendary among vampires.

Tonight, as the vampire community gathered for their masquerade, Nate found himself once again disinterested in the proceedings. He had no desire to select a human to feed on or claim as his own; animal blood sustained him just fine. Amidst the revelry, he stood apart, nursing a glass of wine and evading Stella's persistent advances.

But then, amidst the throng of undead elegance, his gaze fell upon an anomaly—a solitary figure seated outside the mansion on a bench. The man's eyes were closed, his breaths slow and measured, as if seeking respite from the festivities. Unlike the pallor of his vampiric brethren, this man's complexion hinted at humanity. Nate noticed other vampires eyeing the man, assessing him as potential prey, a sight that unsettled him deeply. Without a second thought, he abandoned the safety of the mansion's walls and strode toward the lone figure, an unfamiliar surge of protectiveness coursing through his veins.