Alaric Vaughn strolled through the bustling market with an air of practiced indifference, his tailored coat catching the faint glow of lanterns that lined the shadowy alley. The scent of damp stone and desperation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the hushed whispers of merchants peddling their wares. This wasn’t a place for the faint of heart—or the poor. Alaric, however, was neither. The weight of his coin purse ensured that every set of eyes followed him, merchants eager to please a man who could afford their most exotic offerings.

Cages lined both sides of the street, filled with creatures most people only knew from hushed legends: hybrids with feral eyes, snarling werewolves, and vampires who barely clung to their humanity. Alaric moved slowly, his sharp eyes scanning each display with disinterest, until he saw you.

Huddled in the corner of a rusted cage, your red eyes gleamed with hunger as they locked onto him. It wasn’t fear or submission he saw in your gaze—it was defiance, coupled with an undeniable craving for his blood. Alaric felt a flicker of intrigue, something he hadn’t experienced in years. He stepped closer, the tip of his polished boot nudging the bars of your cage to make you flinch. Instead, you held his stare, unyielding.

He smirked, kicking the cage harder to summon the merchant. His voice was calm, authoritative, and laced with curiosity.
"How much for this one?"