Chapter 1 – Blood of the Night

The night was quiet, but not peaceful.

In this world, silence often meant danger.

The land was home to many kinds of people — hunters, magicians, maids, thieves, royal guards, gangs, and others who worked in the shadows. All of them lived under the same moon, but they were not united. Almost every group had one common enemy: vampires.

Vampires were not just scary stories here. They were real, powerful, and feared. Some were wild and cruel. Some hid among humans, pretending to be one of them. But above all others stood the royal blood vampires — the oldest and most powerful kind.

Alara belonged to this royal bloodline.

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Her family’s history stretched back hundreds of years. The royal blood vampires were different from normal vampires. They were stronger, faster, and could heal almost instantly. Their eyes could turn bright silver when they were angry or hungry. Their blood itself was said to give eternal life to anyone who drank it — a dangerous gift that made them targets for both humans and vampires alike.

Alara’s parents ruled one of the largest vampire clans. Her mother, Serenya, was cold and wise, always speaking in careful words. Her father, Lord Veyric, was a warrior who had fought in countless battles against human armies. They lived in a hidden castle deep inside the mountains, protected by thick forests and spells (magic that could not be broken easily).

Alara was their only child. She was treated like a princess, but her life was far from easy. Every day she heard about attacks from humans — hunters with silver weapons, magicians with fire and light spells, and even gangs who captured vampires for money. The war between humans and vampires never stopped; it only shifted from one battlefield to another.

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The fighting had been going on for centuries.

Hunters (people trained to kill vampires) were the most dangerous of all. They could move silently, track their prey for days, and strike without warning. They carried silver swords, wooden stakes (sharp sticks used to kill vampires), and holy water. Many of them had lost family to vampires and wanted revenge more than anything.

Then there were the magicians — powerful humans who could control the elements: fire, water, air, and earth. Some worked with the hunters. Others stayed independent, fighting vampires for their own reasons.

Even the maids and servants in the human cities could be part of the fight, carrying messages, hiding weapons, or spying for the hunters. And the gangs? They didn’t care who was right or wrong. They captured vampires and sold them like goods, sometimes to the hunters, sometimes to the highest bidder.

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For Alara, this was the only world she knew — a world where her kind was hunted, hated, and feared. She had been trained since childhood to defend herself, to use her speed and strength, and to keep her identity hidden when walking among humans.

Still, she wondered what it was like to live without fear.

On quiet nights, she would climb to the highest tower of her family’s castle and watch the human cities from a distance. She could see their lights glowing like stars on the ground. Somewhere in those cities, hunters and magicians were planning their next attack. Somewhere out there, a human man — one of the strongest of his kind — was living his life, unaware that his path and hers would one day cross.

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And that man… was Riven Duskbane.

But tonight, Alara didn’t know his name. She didn’t know his face. She didn’t know that he, too, lived in a world that didn’t trust him.

For now, all she knew was that another battle was coming.

The hunters were gathering.

The magicians were preparing their spells.

The gangs were sharpening their knives.

And in the middle of all this, the royal blood vampire princess would have to choose between protecting her family… and stepping into a world that might destroy her.

Chapter 2 – The Sleepless Hunter

Riven Duskbane was not what people expected when they heard the word hunter.

Most imagined a tall, muscular warrior with sharp eyes and endless energy. Riven was tall, yes, and his eyes were sharp when they needed to be… but he moved slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world. His black hair was always messy, his clothes were plain, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look tired even in the middle of the day.

In truth, Riven was always tired. Sleep came to him in short bursts, never lasting long. His mind was restless, and his nights were often spent walking under the moon, thinking about nothing and everything at once.

People who met him for the first time rarely believed he was a hunter. Some thought he was a traveler, a wanderer who had lost his way. Others thought he was a burden, someone who only slowed the group down. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

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Riven was good at everything he tried. He could track footsteps in mud that others couldn’t even see. He could fire an arrow straight through a coin at fifty steps. He could pick a lock (open a door without a key) in seconds. And when it came to fighting… well, most never saw him move until it was already over.

But Riven didn’t like to show off. He preferred to watch and wait, letting others underestimate him. It made his work easier.

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That morning, he was sitting at a small wooden table in the corner of an inn, sipping black coffee that had gone cold. Around him, the other hunters in his group were arguing about their next mission.

“They say a royal blood vampire has been spotted near the eastern mountains,” one man said, slamming his fist on the table. “If we can catch her, the reward will be enough to keep us fed for a year.”

Riven didn’t look up. He slowly stirred his coffee, though he had already finished drinking it.

“Why so quiet, Duskbane?” another hunter asked. “You’re not scared of one vampire, are you?”

Riven shrugged. “If she’s royal blood, she’s stronger than all of us put together. And if she’s smart, she’s already gone.”

The others laughed, mistaking his words for laziness. They didn’t notice the way his eyes narrowed slightly — the way he was already memorizing every detail they had said.

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Riven had no love for vampires. They had taken more from him than he could ever get back. But he also didn’t rush into fights for the sake of glory. Every battle was a risk, and every risk had to be worth taking.

Still, the mention of a royal blood vampire caught his attention. He hadn’t faced one before.

He leaned back in his chair, letting the conversation fade into the background. The other hunters would head out soon, swords and crossbows ready. Riven would follow — slowly, quietly — and see for himself if the rumors were true.

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Outside, the human city was waking up. Magicians in long robes walked the streets, their staffs glowing faintly with magic. Maids hurried to the markets, carrying baskets of bread and fruit. Gangs lingered in alleyways, whispering deals no one else was supposed to hear.

And somewhere, far from the noise, in the mountains beyond the city walls… a vampire princess was watching the world she was meant to avoid.

Neither of them knew that their paths were already moving toward each other.

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Chapter 3 – The Drums of War

The air was heavier than usual. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Far in the mountains, the royal vampire castle was alive with noise. Servants ran through the halls, carrying messages from one part of the fortress to another. The great war room — a huge chamber with a round stone table — was full of the clan’s leaders.

Alara stood beside her mother, Serenya, listening quietly. She was not allowed to speak unless spoken to. Her father, Lord Veyric, sat at the head of the table, his silver eyes hard and cold.

“A group of hunters has entered the eastern forests,” one of the generals reported. “They are moving in small teams, searching the villages. Some magicians are with them. And the gangs have been paid to give them information.”

Veyric’s jaw tightened. “They are coming for us. Or for you,” he said, glancing at Alara.

Alara kept her face calm, but her fingers curled slightly. She knew being royal blood meant more than power — it meant being a target. Hunters wanted her dead. Gangs wanted to sell her to the highest bidder. Magicians wanted to use her blood for their own magic.

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In the human city, far away, the hunters were also preparing.

Riven stood in a dusty training yard, leaning on his disguised walking stick — the one that could open into a silver-tipped spear. Around him, the other hunters sharpened blades, packed arrows, and argued over who would get the biggest share of the reward.

One of the older hunters slapped him on the back. “You coming with us this time, Duskbane? Or are you going to stay behind and take a nap?”

Riven smirked slightly. “If I come, she’s mine.”

The others laughed, not sure if he was serious.

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Back in the castle, Serenya’s voice cut through the war room.

“We cannot run forever,” she said. “The humans will not stop. The magicians will not stop. So we must remind them why they fear us.”

Some leaders nodded. Others looked nervous. War meant risk. Even royal blood could be killed.

Alara’s father turned to her. “You will not leave the castle without permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she said softly. But inside, she was already wondering what it would be like to see the world outside again — to walk in the human cities, to watch the hunters up close, to understand the ones who hated her kind.

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By the next morning, the hunters were marching toward the mountains. Magicians in their ranks carried staffs that glowed faint blue with protective magic. The gangs had already given them maps of secret paths.

And among them walked Riven — slow, quiet, looking like he didn’t care, while in his mind he was already planning.

In the castle, Alara stood on the tallest balcony, watching the first rays of dawn (the early morning sunlight) touch the distant hills. She could feel it — the war was moving closer.

The first clash (fight) was only days away.

And when it came, it would change everything.

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