To the world, I am Elena Vance—the eldest daughter of the Vance Hunter clan, known for being as rebellious and scorching as wild fire. Julian is the Sovereign of the Night Kindred—cold, immortal, the very incarnation of absolute order. But when night falls, in this penthouse apartment overlooking Manhattan, he clamps his cold fingers around my waist. As his fangs pierce the skin of my neck, he whispers over and over in my ear: "Mi Amor." He just doesn't know that in two weeks, I am to be sacrificed to the wolves. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and the chill of the aftermath. I lay panting on the silk sheets while Julian had already risen; his pale spine was as perfect as marble in the moonlight. I watched him methodically button his black shirt, covering the red scratch marks I had just left on his chest. "Not staying tonight?" I asked. "Council meeting," he said without turning back, his voice like deep winter frost. "Be good, Elena." Always like this. I sat up, letting the sheets slide to my waist. Julian paused for a fraction of a second while adjusting his cufflinks, then resumed that intimidating elegance. "Julian." "Hm?" "Nothing." He turned, those crimson eyes sweeping over me, before leaning down to place a temperatureless kiss on my forehead. "I'm leaving." As the heavy ebony door clicked shut, I grabbed my phone and dialed that detestable number. "Father, I agree to the marriage alliance. In two weeks, I will marry the Wolf Alpha of the Northern Territory, Gabriel Wolf—the one they say is going mad. But I have one condition." On the other end, the Vance family Commander sounded relieved, even ecstatic. "Good! Name it!" "We talk in person." Hanging up, my gaze fell upon the personal tablet Julian had left on the nightstand. The screen lit up, and a new message popped up. Sender: Selena *Julian, thank you for accompanying me to the sanitarium tonight. The healer says my spiritual power is recovering steadily, all thanks to your blood. I want to walk in Central Park with you tomorrow, just like ten years ago.* Followed by a white lily emoji. I stared at the message, feeling the blood in my veins flow in reverse. Julian never allowed anyone to feed on his blood. Even I, his nominal "partner" of three years, had never tasted a single drop. I dressed in my clothes—my hunter's leather gear—and silently tailed his Phantom luxury car. The car stopped in front of a hidden, high-end French restaurant in the Lower City. I hid in the shadows, watching him stride toward a girl wearing a pale blue dress. Selena. She looked even paler and more fragile than in her holographic photos. Julian reached out, tucking a strand of blonde hair blown by the wind behind her ear. He looked at her as if she were the last pure snowflake in the world, one that would melt at a touch. I had never seen this cold-blooded monarch so gentle, except when he was lost in lust in bed. Three years ago, to quell the century-long war between Hunters and Kindred, my father sent me to Julian as a "Peace Envoy." "Elena needs to learn obedience," Commander Vance had told Julian. "She is a wild horse. Only the strongest predator can tame her." I was twenty then, the family's most gifted but ungovernable hunter. I thought Julian was just another monster wanting to clip my wings. So, I decided to torture him first. At our first meeting, I barged into his study wearing a miniskirt dusted with silver powder—the thing vampires loathed most. Julian sat behind a massive mahogany desk, not even lifting his eyelids. "Put away your silver powder, Elena." "Scared?" "No, it's because it makes you smell like a cheap hardware store." I deliberately sat on his desk, swinging my legs. "Then what would you like to smell?" Julian finally looked up. There was no desire in those red eyes, only scrutiny. "Get out." For months, I used every method to provoke him. I spiked his blood wine with holy water, sabotaged his negotiations with the werewolves, and even filled his coffin with garlic flowers. Julian always cleaned up the mess with suffocating calm, then looked at me with that gaze one reserves for ants: "Elena, you are clever. Don't waste that cleverness on boring tricks." Until that Blood Moon night. I injected myself with a pheromone designed to drive vampires mad, wanting to see this block of eternal ice lose control. But I hadn't anticipated the drug's effect was bidirectional. Julian pinned my wrists, his fangs pressing against my artery, his breath cold and urgent. "You are playing with fire, Elena." "Don't you want to burn me to death?" I met his gaze provocatively. That night spiraled completely out of control. When I woke up the next day, Julian was standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, his back radiating loneliness. I thought he would kill me or throw me back to the Hunter's Guild. "Julian, I—" "Mi Amor," he turned, locking me in place with those profound red eyes. "This is a secret between us." *Mi Amor.* It was that phrase that made me offer up my heart like a fool. For the next two years, we maintained this taboo relationship. By day, he was the lofty Vampire King, and I was the hunter hostage under house arrest. But at night, he was my lover. I thought he loved me. Until my birthday last week. I had booked a box at his favorite opera, ready to tell him that for him, I was willing to betray the Hunter family and give up my humanity to turn into a vampire. But he never showed up. The next day, a photo circulated on the dark web: Julian at the airport, holding a frail girl. Selena. It turned out he had gone to retrieve his "white moonlight"—his untouchable obsession. I got blindly drunk that night and slashed all his collected masterpiece paintings with a silver dagger. When he returned, he merely glanced at the ruins and ordered the butler: "Clean it up. Don't let Elena get hurt." In that moment, I understood. His tolerance wasn't affection; it was indifference. In his eyes, I was just a rowdy cat kept in a cage. He didn't care if the cat scratched the sofa because he didn't care what the cat thought at all. Outside the restaurant, Julian opened the car door for Selena. She seemed to tell a joke, and the corners of Julian's mouth actually lifted slightly. I looked away, feeling a hollow space where my heart should be. I drove back to the Vance family estate. In the living room, my father and stepmother were reviewing the gift list for the werewolf alliance. "I want to sever ties," I said bluntly, sitting on the sofa opposite them. Father frowned, putting down the list. "What did you say?" A flash of secret delight passed through my stepmother's eyes. "I said, I will marry Gabriel, the werewolf who is rumored to be dying from a curse. In exchange, wipe my name and my mother's name from the family genealogy. From now on, whether the Vance family lives or dies has nothing to do with me. You can let your illegitimate daughter, Alice, inherit the family." Father slammed the table. "Elena! The mission that caused your mother's death was an accident!" "Accident?" I sneered, fingers caressing the dagger at my waist. "She bled dry on the front lines while you were busy flirting with this woman in the rear. Dad, do we still need to act? You're rushing to sell me to the werewolves just for that dowry to revive the family, so your precious bastard daughter can live a good life, aren't you?" "Fine!" Father shook with rage. "If you want to get out, then get out! Starting tomorrow, you are no longer a Vance!" "Deal." I stood up. "Remember to tell the werewolves that what they bought isn't the eldest daughter of the Vance family, just an orphan kicked out of her home." Back in my old room, I packed my luggage. Tears finally couldn't help but smash onto the floor. Julian, do you know? To leave you completely, I sold myself to the devil. The next morning, I returned to Julian's penthouse. As soon as I entered, I saw several unfamiliar boxes in the living room. A figure in a white dress stood by the window; hearing the noise, she turned around. Selena. She looked at me with an innocent and surprised expression. "You must be Elena? I'm Selena. Julian mentioned you to me, said you are very... lively." Lively. An adjective for a pet. Julian walked down from upstairs, holding a glass of crimson liquid. "Selena hasn't fully recovered and needs the special magnetic field here to heal," he looked at me, his tone as flat as if discussing the weather. "The butler has already prepared the guest room." I looked at him. "Guest room?" "That is your new room. Selena will take the master bedroom; it connects to the therapy room." The master bedroom. The place where we had entangled for countless nights. I let out a very soft laugh. "No need." I turned, dragging my suitcase toward the door. Julian frowned, blurring into motion to block my path. "Where are you going?" "I'm leaving," I looked straight into his eyes, without a ripple of emotion. "Since this house has a new mistress, I won't disturb you." "Elena!" His voice dropped, carrying a warning. "Stop making a scene. Your wedding is in two weeks; you are not allowed to go anywhere during this time." "I know." I stepped around him. "I'll show up at the wedding." "Stop!" I ignored him and walked straight into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, I saw Julian standing there, his gaze dark and predatory, while Selena gently tugged at his sleeve.