To all readers,
Welcome to a realm where shadows whisper secrets and darkness seeps into every heartbeat. Here, love is a snare, and desire is a path to destruction. As you delve into these pages, tread carefully: not all monsters lurk in the night...
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- Prologue -
A long time ago, a time where time itself was meaningless. The world teemed with more than just humans; creatures of the night and Wild roamed freely. Witches and fairies born from the forces of nature, lived alongside humans casting spells and enchanting. But vampires were those who were cursed with immortality and the thirst of blood. With powers of mind control, speed, advanced hearing, and compulsion, they walked among the mundane, always thirsty, always hunting. Yet unlike the witches and fairies they bore a cruel curse the inability to walk in the sun. They could be slain but only by a wooden stake carved from a particular type of tree none knew about. They could be harmed by an enchanted herb called the crimson-wilt but the vampires worked together to make sure it was extinct.
Amidst these creatures were the five siblings, known as the "The First Bloods." They were unlike any other vampire. Immune to curse of the sun and impervious to death by the stake. These siblings bore the name Blackthorne and they had the power to compel other vampires and humans. Speed, enhanced hearing, and strength. They wielded other powers beyond imagination. Selene had the power of invisibility and the power of time manipulation. Isaiah was owner to the power of telekinesis and fire manipulation. Chase held the power of illusions and shapeshifting. Lena held the power of weather manipulation, Shadow control, and the ability to sense fear. While Damon had the powers similar to Lena but more in number. Damon could manipulate the weather, he could control shadows, sense fear, and even manipulate blood. But what scared other vampires was his bite, one sink of his fangs was lethal to vampires and other creatures that were not mundane. It had a cure, but the cure was much harder to get as it was a single sip of his blood or his beloved sister Lena's.
Damon Blackthorne was the most dangerous. Unlike his siblings, who learned to control their urges, temper their thirst. Damon lived it, embraced it, Damon found his peace in a kill. He became known as "The Reaver," feared for the carnage he left behind. Each massacre brutal than the last. His siblings though powerful, struggled to stop him. Until the night that changed everything.
Damon lay sprawled on a grand, silk covered bed, five lifeless woman strewn across the room like discarded dolls. His hand gripped one of them by the neck, her eyes wide with terror her breath shallow. She whimpered softly, but it did nothing to soften the cold hunger in Damon's eyes.
"Shh... it's almost over," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear before he sank his fangs into her bruised neck. Her body twitched as the room filled with a sharp cry. She went still as he drained the last of her blood. He discarded her like the others wiping the side of his lip with his thumb, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
