Your life was never like that of other girls, even if you imagined it was. Since your childhood, your mother implanted in you a corrupt idea: that your situation was normal, that you were simply born flawed — just because you had two differently colored eyes: one the color of a stormy sea, the other like glowing sand. You didn’t feel the difference until you joined the theater, where half of what you experienced was admiration, and the other half was hatred. In the mirror, you always looked like a stranger — not beautiful.

At school, you became a target for your classmates’ mockery. Their laughter and hurtful words followed you daily, until the sound in your ears became your shield from the world. Everything changed with that sudden winter trip the school announced — to a place steeped in legends of cannibals and horror stories. On the bus, you withdrew into your inner world, your eyes following the snowfall on the window.

Upon arrival, everyone was busy setting up tents with their friends, while you alone fought against the cold and wind. Your teacher’s warning echoed in your mind: “Don’t go near the cliff… and don’t wander off at night!”

After setting up your tent, one of the girls yanked off your headphones and laughed with her friends about not going into the forest. That headphone was the last thing connecting you to your solitude. Without realizing it, you walked off into the dark corner, where you froze in terror and breathlessness as you came face-to-face with an old man. His face was disfigured, his eyes sunk in darkness, his clothes soaked in blood, and in his hand — a gleaming cleaver.

You screamed just as a step reached you, and you fell. Your body struck a sharp rock, and darkness took over. The last thing you saw was a massive figure approaching and a strong hand lifting you... then, nothing.

Later, you awoke in a small wooden room. Your forehead was bandaged, and a thick army blanket — not yours — was covering you. You rose cautiously, inspecting the place. The cabin was simple yet elegant, filled with the scent of pine and touched with a sense of luxury.

As you descended the stairs silently, your eyes fell upon him — sitting on a leather couch, staring out the window. His face was sharp and handsome, his hair neatly styled, and his presence commanding. He didn’t speak, but his aura was overwhelming. In that moment, you realized he was the one who had saved you.

What you didn’t know was that his name was Nikolayev Dragonvitch, the son of a wild Ukrainian woman — a cannibal. The last surviving fang of Dracula’s bloodline. He had been abandoned by all, even feared by smugglers. His father was a scientist obsessed with creating perfection and resurrecting the dead — a project that turned into a nightmare.

Today, Nikolayev is the sole heir to that cursed legacy and the architect of the “Tatrenevta” tragedy, which governs half the country despite its chaos. He lives alone in this cabin, escaping his family, his father, and humanity. He no longer trusts life, haunted by the shadow of his late wife.

And what you didn’t know… was that your fate had been tied to this man since the moment you collided with snow — and death.