The sky above the city was streaked with violet and gold as dusk settled in. Mira Blake stood in the middle of her modest apartment living room, surrounded by balloons, cheap decorations, and the chatter of her closest friends. Laughter echoed against the walls as someone turned up the volume of the music, sending waves of bass bouncing through the room.
"Happy Birthday, Mira!" shouted one of her childhood friends, handing her a paper plate with a messily frosted slice of cake. Mira smiled warmly, brushing her dark curls behind her ear.
"Thanks, Leo. I can't believe you still remember how I like vanilla with caramel," she said, taking the plate.
"Of course I do. We've been stuck together since kindergarten," Leo said, giving her a mock bow.
The warmth in the room was comforting, something she rarely got to experience. Mira had grown up in foster care, shuffled between homes before finally aging out. But these friends, this tiny slice of chaotic joy, had become her family.
She was mid-bite into her cake when she felt it.
A strange ripple—like a subtle quake under her feet. Her brow furrowed. That wasn't normal.
"What was that?" she muttered.
"Probably just the bass," Leo shrugged, bobbing his head to the beat.
But something in her gut twisted.
A second later, there was a louder crash. Not inside—but close. Too close. Mira stiffened.
"Did you hear that?" she asked, turning toward the back door.
"Hear what?" Leo asked, looking puzzled.
"Nothing. I think I'll check something real quick."
She slipped away from the crowd, pushing open the back door. The backyard was dimly lit, the sky now fully bathed in night. Her shoes crunched against the grass as she stepped cautiously into the open.
The sight stole her breath.
There, collapsed in the middle of her backyard, was a man.
He looked to be around her age, maybe a little older. Tall, lean but muscular, with tousled raven-black hair that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. His eyes were closed, his skin pale and eerily flawless.
Mira's heart hammered. "Hey! Are you okay?" she called, stepping forward. "Do you need help?"
No response.
She knelt beside him. Up close, he looked even more surreal, like someone out of a dream or a nightmare. Her eyes widened when she noticed something sharp glinting from his mouth.
Fangs.
Real, sharp fangs.
She gasped, stumbling back in shock, falling on her palms. "No way... no way…"
As if on cue, the man's eyes snapped open. Crimson irises locked onto hers.
Before she could move, before she could scream, he was suddenly kneeling beside her.
"Don't... move," he said, his voice low, velvet, and commanding.
She froze.
Another sound tore through the night. Footsteps. Several of them. Fast. Inhuman.
In a blink, the man pulled her into his arms. Mira barely had time to react. Her face pressed against his chest, her breath catching at how cold he felt.
"You smell... delicious," he murmured, so softly she almost thought she imagined it.
But his tone shifted quickly, sharp, defensive.
"Leave. Now," he barked, addressing the shadows that suddenly flickered at the edge of the backyard.
From behind Mira, several figures stepped into the light. All were dressed in black, their eyes glowing faintly red, fangs visible. Vampires.
Mira clung instinctively to the stranger holding her, despite every warning bell ringing in her head.
One of the others, a tall woman with platinum hair, sneered at her. "You've broken protocol, Prince Lucien. Humans aren't supposed to witness us."
Lucien tightened his grip around Mira. "I don't care. This one's under my protection."
"She's nothing," another vampire hissed. "A human girl. Why risk exposure for her?"
"Because I said so." His voice boomed with authority.
Silence fell. The other vampires glanced at each other, tension thick in the air.
Then, as if submitting to his command, they bowed their heads. One by one, they turned to leave, vanishing into the shadows with inhuman speed.
Only when the last figure disappeared did Lucien finally relax his hold on her.
Mira trembled in his arms, unsure whether she should scream, faint, or run.
But one thing was certain, her life would never be the same again.