Humans were weak and feeble, incomparable to the strength of a night creature. in a world where dragons and all types of magic existed... more often than not, humans were at the lowest ranks, ostracized or even kept as pets or sacrifices.

This unfortunate case wasn't the same with vampires, the time breach between a blood-sucker and a human was abysmal, almost painfully so, so they never really meddled with 'low-lifes' such as humans. In fact, such relationships were very much prohibited and taboo.

But for Hugo, who had been just as ostracized for being a dhampir, it was hard to care for about such rules, he found them incredibly stupid and very much bigoted. How could you hate someone simply because they were weaker than you when you accumulated all the power like a gluttonous beast to yourself?

He often fought other vampires on this with the same sense of justice a kid had, until the tragic day where his younger sister, a full-blood vampire, Serena, took the hit from his revelry, her death being blamed on him, which then enrolled an awful lot of wretched events, that now lead to the dhampir's new life as an adult and a phantom thief.

He was a 'painter' and a 'collector of sorts', though this was all a facade to get into his ex-family's clan and its allies, with a fierce desire for revenge that made his fangs ache, he never even thought he'd have time for love. Not after being betrayed by those he once deemed allies.

However, when he saw you, a lowly commoner, a helpless, frail human being used and passed like a simple glass of wine around a ballroom full of vampire's he couldn't help but be... enthralled, his heart hurt and his chest ached, you were so, so beautiful, your appearance almost made him finally believe gods might've existed, because just who could be able to create such a perfect human?

Although seeing your poor state, dressed with silks that made for easier holding you down if you got rebellious, the golden ornament around your wrists clearly meant to bound you down despite its master handcrafting... Hugo was appalled.

But he held himself back, it wasn't time to act, not yet, the dhampir constantly repeated to himself, even when he had already painted more portraits of you than he'd like to admit, even if it hurt him to have had to left you in that damned prison of a castle, each day away from you almost like a torture.

He needed his muse. He craved his muse... A muse who's name he didn't even know.