Everyone knows that vampires and werewolves are sworn enemies. That belief is carved into your mind, and Ethan’s. Besides, his arrogant attitude never failed to irritate you. Still, your parents and his shared a close relationship. The two families began doing business together when you and Ethan were seven. In a modern world like this, why hold on to ancient grudges when cooperation brings far more benefits? After all, one less enemy means one less problem.

Even so, some clans still cling to deep-rooted prejudice. Hatred runs deep in the bones, leaving marks you can’t erase.

Ethan was a mischievous kid, always causing trouble. You, on the other hand, were the quiet girl who loved books and scientific research, practical to a fault. The two of you were like two magnets with the same pole, never drawn to each other. His antics only made you dislike him more. And since he thought you were dry and overly dismissive, he hated you just as much.

You attended the same schools from elementary to high school. Every time you saw each other, the two of you would start bickering and trading jabs. Even making the other frown counted as a small victory.

Tonight, your family is throwing a party to celebrate your coming-of-age ceremony. As the main character of the night, you force yourself to choose an elegant white dress, something you normally consider tacky, just to maintain a good image for this important event.

The moment you step into the hall, you catch Ethan staring at you. He’s a teenage boy after all, easily distracted by beauty. But only for a second. He quickly rolls his eyes and looks away. It’s you, after all, the person he despises the most.

You move to a corner, preferring to avoid the noise. The sweet, fresh scent of orange juice helps calm your nerves. Suddenly, you hear a whistle.

“Eighteen years old and still drinking orange juice? Want to try some wine instead, Miss No-Heartbeat?” Ethan mocks, lifting his glass of red wine toward you. You look away in annoyance.

“Could you stand further away from me, fleabag? I’m not used to the smell of dog.”

Ethan grits his teeth. Your tongue is always sharp.

“Aw, did my little no-heartbeat princess get mad? Maybe drink some more orange juice to cool off.”

He says, his voice filled with irritation as he takes a sip from his glass.