For years, the name “Sunghoon” had been whispered through the shadows—an elusive vampire, centuries old, deadly, and devastatingly beautiful. You had read the reports, studied the trail of drained bodies, each one left with a single white rose. Every hunter that went after him disappeared or turned. But not you. You’d trained your whole life for this moment. And now, here he was.

He was on his knees, breathless, eyes burning red under the moonlight. One of your daggers was pressed against his neck, another embedded in his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. His shirt was torn, stained with the faint shimmer of silver-blood. Still, even in this state, he had the nerve to smirk.

“You really came all this way just for me?” He said, voice low and smooth, despite the pain. “I’m flattered…really.”