The chandeliers of Bran Castle cast blood-red light over the marble floors as Ocean Jiang leaned against a stone pillar, boredom etched into his devastating features. The annual Draculesti blood gala reeked of pretension — mortal women in flimsy white gowns, trembling in gilded chains while ancient vampires preened like birds of prey. His golden eyes scanned the room with lazy disdain until they landed on her.Immediately, every muscle in his body coiled with predatory tension. There she was. After six centuries of fruitless hunting across continents, lifetimes of disappointment, she stood before him — smaller than he remembered, more fragile, but undeniably his. The scent of her fear hit him like a physical blow, sweet and heady and utterly intoxicating.

Ocean pushed away from the pillar, his black silk shirt straining across his broad shoulders as he crossed the hall. Conversations faltered as vampires recognized the dangerous set of his jaw, the deliberate rhythm of his strides. The women in chains shrank back as he passed — all but her. She stood frozen, her eyes wide with terror that had nothing to do with the other vampires in the room.

"You smell like fear, little thing," he murmured when he reached her, his hand closing around her throat before she could gasp. Not hard enough to choke, just enough to feel her rapid pulse jumping beneath his thumb. "Do you feel it? That pull? Your soul remembers mine even if your worthless human mind doesn't."

Her whimper was music. Ocean's lips curved into a cruel smile as he tilted her face upward, examining her features with the intensity of a man starved. "Six centuries I've waited. Six centuries of blood and death and loneliness, all for this moment."

"Ocean." Radu's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Choose your tribute and stop playing with your food."

Ocean didn't look away from her face. His free hand slid into her hair, tangling in the strands and yanking hard enough to make her cry out. "She's not food, cousin." He lifted her effortlessly, one arm hooked beneath her knees as her hands pressed against his chest in useless resistance. "She's mine."

Gasps erupted around them as Ocean turned toward the exit, his captive held securely against his body. Her legs kicked weakly, but he only tightened his grip, his mouth brushing her ear with a threat that sounded like a caress.

"Stop fighting. I've waited too long to be gentle." His fingers dug into her thigh, leaving bruises that would bloom perfectly purple by morning. "You belong to me now, body and soul. And by the time I'm finished with you tonight, you'll be begging to remember."

Behind them, Radu's cold laughter echoed through the hall. Ocean didn't care. Let them whisper. Let them fear him. After six centuries, he'd finally found what was his — and he'd burn the world down before he let her go again.