Chapter 1

After a slumber spanning a full century, I was awakened by my brother, the Supreme Lord of the Vampire race, and spent a year recuperating within his castle. It was a long, blank interlude—no feasts of blood, no clan laws, and certainly no one who knew of my existence.

My brother—Victor, the Night King who ruled the entire realm—had nearly worried himself gray over it. He spent his days in a state of anxiety, terrified that I, a newly awakened "antique," would be swindled by some nameless rogue vampire and impulsively bind myself in a hasty blood pact through the Embrace.

Consequently, he personally arranged a marriage alliance for me. The intended was Julian Black, heir to the Obsidian Family, the strongest clan in the East. He was handsome, dangerous, and a legend among the younger generation.

My brother ordered me to attend the upcoming Blood Moon Ball. I had no choice but to comply, so I set out to select a ruby necklace to match my gown.

Walking into a high-end antique shop catering exclusively to supernatural beings, my gaze was immediately arrested by a deep crimson necklace radiating an ancient magic. Just as I reached out to take it, a shrill female voice cut in: "I’ve got my eye on that one. I want it. Wrap it up for me."

Before I could react, the shop assistant snatched the necklace from my hand, his movements so rough he nearly tore my glove. I straightened my spine, suppressing the urge for bloodlust rising within me, and said coldly, "Haven't you heard of 'first come, first served'? I saw it first. Is this how you conduct business here?"

The flamboyantly dressed female vampire turned slowly, looking me up and down with a gaze dripping with mockery. "This necklace is worth half a million dollars. Are you sure you can afford it, bumpkin? I grew up with the heir of the Obsidian Family—Julian Black. In this district, my word is the law."

I stared at her, nearly laughing aloud. Wasn't this ironic? Julian happened to be my betrothed.

I pulled out my phone and hit the dial button. "Hello, Julian. Your lovely 'childhood sweetheart' just snatched the necklace I intended to wear to the Blood Moon Ball. Tell me, how should I handle this?"

...

In the long lives of vampires, the term "childhood sweetheart" usually implies a mess of complicated entanglements. If this Prince of the Obsidian Family couldn't offer a reasonable explanation, I might as well tear up the engagement contract right now.

To my surprise, Julian Black's icy voice retorted, "Who is this? And who gave you the audacity to talk about Bella?"

Before I could identify myself—that I was his future mate, Elena Vane, the one chosen to bestow glory upon him and unite two of the strongest ancient bloodlines—the call was disconnected.

Fury boiled in my cold blood. Just wonderful! My betrothed hadn't even saved my private number!

Bella Thorne burst into laughter, her expression growing increasingly smug. "Oh, what a pathetic wretch. I don't know where you got Prince Julian's number, but did you really think a random phone call would get him to back you up?"

The corners of her mouth curled into a mocking, even cruel arc. Her gaze swept contemptuously over me, finally resting on my plain, unbranded dress that bore no family crest. "Look at yourself—even the blood slaves in his castle dress better than you. Where do you get such confidence?"

I had slept for too long and never cared for clothing brands, only comfort. I never imagined that one day this would become a weapon used against me.

"Apologies, but I have no interest in proving my self-worth through designer labels. Usually, only low-class vampires with thin bloodlines feel the need to do that!" I retorted coldly. "Since Julian is willing to grow up alongside someone like you, I suppose he isn't much better."

After her scene, I had completely lost the mood to carefully select a necklace. I pointed randomly at a silver brooch in the display case and turned to the clerk. "Wrap this up. I'm paying."

The clerk froze, looking uneasy. "I'm sorry, Miss, but our shop prioritizes sales to members of the nobility..."

Bella scoffed. She lifted her chin arrogantly and tapped a finger against the shiny obsidian badge pinned to her chest. It was the symbol of a core member of the Obsidian Family.

"See this? This means I am under Prince Julian's protection," she lowered her voice, her tone acidic. "And what do you have, darling? You have nothing. So stop pretending to be superior."

I generally disliked conflict, but today, Bella had successfully ignited my rage. I crossed my arms and suddenly released the power within me.

The pressure derived from a Progenitor bloodline swept out from my body like an invisible cold front, instantly freezing the air inside the antique shop. The surrounding light seemed to be swallowed up, and the smug smile on Bella's face vanished, frozen in place.

I asked calmly, "How about now? Is this enough to prove I am a high-ranking vampire?"

Bella quickly recovered, masking the flash of fear in her eyes with vicious words. "So what? I've never heard of you. You're probably just some bastard from a nameless rural tomb."

She whipped around to face the clerk, her gaze like a knife. "You must be new, so let me make this clear—this is the East District, Prince Julian's territory. If you dare sell that brooch to her, this shop won't be open by sunset tomorrow!"

The clerk's hands trembled violently as he held the box, as if it had suddenly become heavy as lead.

He turned to me, his voice sounding like he was about to cry. "Miss, I'm just an employee trying to make a living. I really can't afford to offend Prince Julian... Please don't make this hard for me."

The surrounding customers began to whisper in terror. "I've seen Miss Thorne many times. The Prince really indulges her. No one has ever successfully competed with her for anything she wants."

"I heard that once, a vampire stared at her in a way she found uncomfortable, and the next day the Prince threw him out into the sunlight to burn."

"Miss, even if you have some power, compared to Prince Julian? It's nothing. You'd better apologize to Miss Thorne and beg for her mercy."

Amidst the crowd's submissive agreement, Bella's vanity was immensely satisfied, and her smile grew even brighter. Hands on her hips, her blood-red high heels clacking harshly against the floor, she advanced on me step by step.

"That's right. Bow your head and admit defeat. I want you to shout three times, 'I am a lowly mongrel,' so everyone here can hear it," she commanded arrogantly. "If you do, I might consider leaving you a shred of dignity and letting you leave."