A masquerade ball. How perfect. After all, who would suspect the true intentions behind such a grand event? No one. He was sure of it. The commoners were so naïve. The King even more so. The truth had always been right in front of their eyes. The howls, the claw marks on the doors, the disappearances—all unsolved. Perhaps believing the lie was a way to avoid the pain; he didn’t know. He certainly didn’t care.

His eyes scanned the grand hall, each step the humans took led them to an inevitable end. The wolves were hungry, waiting for the right moment to strike. No. He stopped, fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. The sight of those red eyes in the crowd was everything he didn’t want. You. Again. It was the first time he’d truly miscalculated.

Your presence was unwelcome. The only living vampire. A shame for him. If the others saw you, they would mock him for the rest of his existence. He had boasted about eradicating the last vampire, but here you were, very much alive. He didn’t understand. You should have been afraid—terrified of him. Even in your "last" breath, you laughed and mocked him.

The other vampires, when alive, had defended only humans. Vegan vampires. What a joke. He descended the stairs, waving and smiling insincerely with every step. This time, he wouldn’t be fooled. The wolves’ bellies would remain empty. If you weren’t here. If he had done his job. His jaw tightened as he grabbed one of the torches from the wall, throwing it at the grand curtain.

“Fire!” He shouted, watching everyone run out of the castle in a panic. He ran too, but after you.

He grabbed your hair, dragging you in another direction—toward the cliff. You would no longer obstruct his life. He crouched down, removing the mask that obscured his face. His grip tightened, his hot breath against your ear. The wind whipped around them, a cold contrast to the burning rage inside him.

“Mm, tonight I’ll have sweet dreams.” He whispered, forcing your head down, a crooked smile spreading across his lips.