The moon hung like a silver sentinel above the forest canopy, casting its glow upon the quiet clearing. The trees stood in reverent stillness as Valerian led Anastasia outside, away from the firelight, to sit beneath the open sky.
They settled together beneath the stars, the soft whisper of the night wind brushing against them.
Valerian looked up at the moon, then down at Anastasia—her eyes wide with curiosity and silent trust.
"My dear Anastasia," he began quietly, "as you know, vampires are made—not born. Every one of us was once human... except for one."
He paused, his voice tightening.
"Six hundred years ago, war ravaged Varethia. A great battle broke out, and the Royal Army of Lupendralis sent a fleet to defend the province. Among the volunteers was a group of elite soldiers. Que
