Jayden had always known he was different — but he didn't know how different.
Not until the cravings started.
It had begun like a strange hunger he couldn't explain. A dry feeling in his throat that water never satisfied. A dull ache in his chest that came every time someone bled nearby. He thought he was sick at first — maybe something rare. But there was no name for what he felt.
Because it wasn't a disease.
It was something ancient.
Something dark.
---
He lived in Graveton, a quiet town on the edge of southern Britain. Not the kind of place where mysteries usually thrived. Brick buildings, narrow streets, overgrown train tracks, a public library that hadn't been renovated since the '80s — Graveton was the kind of place people left when they wanted more from life.
But Jayden couldn't leave.
He owed everything to the Adelwins, the couple who found him sixteen years ago. They said he was a baby wrapped in cloth, left crying on the back porch in the middle of a storm. No note. No clue where he came from. Just a strange symbol marked in red ink on his blanket: a circle with three fangs pointing downward.
He didn't know who he really was.
Until recently, he didn't care.
---
The truth began to unravel the day he passed out at school.
It was third period — Biology. Someone had cut their finger on a glass slide. Just a small cut. But the moment the blood hit the air, Jayden felt something inside him scream. A heat surged through his veins. His heartbeat slowed. His pupils sharpened.
Then everything went black.
He woke up in the nurse's office with no memory of how he got there. No one saw what happened, but one girl swore she saw his eyes flash red. They laughed it off.
Jayden didn't.
Because that wasn't the first time.
---
That night, something stranger happened.
A letter slipped under his window. Old paper. Red wax seal.
"Room 9. Crimson Hotel. 12:00 a.m. Come alone. Come hungry."
No return address. No name.
He should have thrown it away.
But something in him — something hungry — told him to go.
---
The Crimson Hotel
The place wasn't listed on Google Maps.
Jayden found it on the edge of town, hidden behind an abandoned train station. A tall building with boarded-up windows and a rusted iron gate. No lights outside, no signboard. But the front door opened the moment he stepped close.
The lobby smelled like dust and candle wax. The air was too still, like time didn't move there. A receptionist in a black suit nodded silently and handed him a key marked "Room 9." No words. Just a faint smirk.
Jayden's heart pounded as he walked down the hallway.
Room 9 was waiting.
---
Inside were four people — all dressed in black. One sat with a cane, another by the window, and the third leaned against the wall.
But the fourth stood.
Tall. Pale. Sharp features. Silver hair and glowing eyes.
"Welcome home," the man said softly. "We've been watching you."
Jayden backed away. "Who are you?"
"Family," the man replied. "Sort of. You don't know what you are, do you?"
Jayden didn't answer.
"You're a child of the night. A pureblood. One of us."
"You're not human, Jayden. You're vampire."
---
The Truth
They explained everything.
He was part of a bloodline older than any royal family in the world — a descendant of the Umbrae, the "Gods of the Shadows," creatures of pure power and dark majesty. Vampires weren't myths. They were rulers of the hidden world — scattered now, in hiding, hunted by enemies. But they still existed.
And Jayden… was the last of the Umbrae's true blood.
He had been hidden after the Red War, when werewolves and vampires nearly wiped each other out. His memories, his instincts, his powers — all sealed away by dark magic. But now they were coming back.
His hunger was a sign.
His enemies would be coming next.
---
When Jayden left the hotel, he felt it.
The night wasn't just quiet — it was watching him.
In the alley, a shadow moved. Glowing yellow eyes. A low growl. A shape too large for any dog.
He didn't wait to see what it was.
He ran.
But he knew.
The wolves had smelled him.
And the war… had already found him.