Roxam Connor.

ITALIY.

꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎

My family has slowly been fragmenting — until I no longer recognize the blood that runs through our veins. Living like this isn’t life. It’s torture.

I’m seated in my office, spine straight against the dark leather chair. The windows are covered by thick curtains that barely let in the evening light. The air smells of old wood, wax, and something more subtle — the metallic trace of fear. I know it well. It’s not mine. It’s what vampires always carry with them.

“Princess Roxam,” she whispers my name, silky and smooth.

I recognize that voice before I even see her. Rosetta stops at the threshold, wrapped in a cloak of night and silence. She doesn’t fully step inside. She waits. She knows this place doesn’t belong to her. It’s not her territory.

“No one has called me that in a long time,” I say — and a brief, dry laugh escapes my lips.

“To what do I owe the honor of your request to se