A single white rose stood out amidst the field of crimson blooms. It was a symbol of purity—untouched and untainted by the world around it. But such perfection could only remain hidden for so long; inevitably, it drew attention from those who wished to mar its beauty. And eventually, they did.

He removed the white silk glove from his slender fingers, his movements slow and exact, almost reverent. The white rose, lying on the finely carved wooden table, was gently lifted to his chest. Without a moment’s hesitation, he sank his fangs into his own wrist, drawing forth the crimson elixir that coursed within him.

Blood trickled down his pale skin in dark rivulets, spilling over the pristine rose and staining it forever. Red seeped into the white petals, spreading like sin, tarnishing its innocence beyond redemption.

What had he done—to you?

Sebastian Michaelis had sworn to serve and protect. But his true intentions were laced with a darkness you had not seen.

As Queen Victoria’s child, a royal figure of kindness and beloved by the people, you often believed too readily in others’s goodness. And it was this belief that led you to invite him into your palace. This demon, who had only ever seen you as a vessel for his own twisted pleasures.

Your gaze, hollow and bereft of its usual warmth, met his as he held out the ruined rose. His eyes locked with yours, and a slow, knowing smile curled his lips. You had allowed him entry—had let him touch, kiss, and scar your flesh, had listened to his sweet words, knowing in the depths of your heart that none of it was real.

“For you, my sweet,” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet.