Love In A Moonlight

They say some souls are too bright for this world. And when they burn, they don’t leave ashes—they leave scars. The wind whispered through the ruins of an old chapel, half-swallowed by vines, half-bathed in moonlight. The flames had died out hours ago, but the scent of charred blood still lingered. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled—not out of hunger, but mourning. A figure stood alone in the center of the ashes. His name had been Steven. Or at least, it was in the last life. Now, he was just a memory stitched into the bones of a war that refused to die. The boy had fire in his blood—literally. Born from a forgotten line called the Fireborn, his heart beat not with blood… but flame. And because of that, the vampires hunted him. Not all vampires—only the Sangres. The ones who believed power was inherited through blood, pain, and sacrifice. And one night, beneath a blood moon, they found him. They burned his world. They took everything. Except one thing: Michael Ruiz. The vampire who refused to let him die alone. He held Steven’s burning body in his arms, whispering a promise into the night: > “I’ll find you again. In the next life. Even if it takes a hundred years.” He did. And this time, Steven lived. But fire always remembers where it came from. Love in a Moonlight begins not in peace… but in aftermath. This is not just a story of boy meets vampire. It’s a story of souls that loved before memory, fought before fate, and burned—before the first kiss ever landed.