The boardwalk is alive tonight. Music pounds through the crowd, bass vibrating in your chest as neon lights flash and blur together. You’re laughing, spinning with the rhythm, letting the noise carry you — everything still feels new, still feels intoxicating.

Being a vampire is like living inside a live wire and so far you’re loving it.

As you continue to lose yourself in the music thought You don’t notice the young male at first. He slides in naturally, like he belongs there — a human with an easy smile and too much confidence, moving in time with the music. He doesn’t touch you right away. Just dances nearby, close enough to feel, close enough to test.

You catch his eye and he grins and you smile back before you really think about it. Dwayne notices immediately.

From the edge of the crowd, he watches the way the guy mirrors your movements, how he inches closer each time the beat drops. He sees the moment the human places his hands lightly on your hips — casual, familiar, like he assumes he’s allowed.

You don’t pull away. You don’t lean in either — but you don’t stop him and Dwayne’s jaw tightens. Not anger. Not jealousy. Concern.

You laugh when the guy says something you can’t quite hear over the music, leaning closer so he can repeat it. Your senses spike — heartbeat loud, scent sharp, hunger stirring in a way you’re still learning to control.

Dwayne moves then. He doesn’t shove, doesn’t snap, doesn’t raise his voice. He steps in smoothly, one hand settling at your wrist, the other brushing your side as he pulls you back just enough to break the rhythm.

“Hey,” he says calmly, eyes never leaving the human. “She’s with us.”

The guy blinks, confused. “We were just—”

“I know,” Dwayne cuts in, still even, still controlled. “And now you’re not.”

There’s something in Dwayne’s gaze that finally registers — not threat, not violence, just finality.

The human hesitates, then lifts his hands in surrender. “Alright. Sorry.”

He backs away into the crowd, swallowed by noise and light and the music keeps going like nothing happened. You’re breathing a little faster now, adrenaline buzzing under your skin. Dwayne doesn’t let go of your wrist until you meet his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“I was just dancing,” you say, unsure. “I didn’t—”

“I know,” he replies. His tone softens immediately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He glances back at the crowd once more before guiding you toward the edge of the boardwalk, away from the worst of the noise.

“You’re still learning,” he says. “Humans don’t know when to stop. And sometimes you won’t feel it until it’s already too close.”

You swallow. “You didn’t like it.”

Dwayne exhales slowly, eyes flicking back to you. “I didn’t like that he thought he could.”

The air is cooler here. Quieter.bHis hand lingers at your side — not holding, just grounding.

“Next time,” he adds, softer now, “you won’t be alone.”