Prologue

PROLOGUE

HAYDEN

"You must marry her. I don't understand your interest in rebelling against tradition and your responsibilities to this family." My mother scolds me as I listen with my head hanging low. I love my mother, but I can't face the disappointment in her eyes. Truthfully, I'm tired of her looking at me like that.

"Hayden, have respect! At least pretend to care and look at your mother when she is speaking to you!" My father roars and is in my face at warp speed. I sit on the couch in the living room by the grand fireplace. Red and orange pools of color flicker behind them. My elbows are on my thighs, and I focus on the dark wooden floors, lost in thought. I lift my head to face my father's wrath. He's fuming . His eyes convert to a dark red from his original ice-blue eyes.

Fuck.

He's mad .

I inhale deeply, sensing the anger festering within me, too, but I cannot hold back my frustration of being cornered. I stand with a hiss, meeting my father. We are about the same height, but I'm slightly taller at 6'4.

"Mother. Father." I tilt my head at them. "With all due respect, I will not marry Eleanor. THIS. IS. CLICHé. For crying out loud! The firstborn son has to marry the daughter of another king to strengthen alliances?" I question them like I'm doubting their sanity. They don't move. They're frozen like statues, unwavering in their decision. They won't back down or change their mind, but I must try to get myself out of this ridiculous request. If they won't back down, neither will I. I've always been stubborn that way.

"We aren't living in the 1600s, and I'm not going to do this," I continue as my eyes change from ocean blue to dark red.

This is common for creatures like us. Our eyes shift to our immortal ones when emotions get too high and all-consuming.

Marriage has never interested me. When you can live forever, why attach yourself by law to stay with the same person for eternity?

This is not in my nature .

My mother sighs, frustrated, and bobs her head from side to side. Her hand massages her temples, contemplating her thoughts. I know what she's thinking. She's been asking herself the same question since I was born. Where had she gone wrong loving and raising a son who grew to be so stubborn, irresponsible, and rebellious—raising a son who doesn't want to take over the role of being the new Northern King?

My father wants to retire from his royal duties. My mother wants to go back to her roots in Europe. Three hundred years have passed, and he felt it was time for me to take over. I'm enjoying the responsibility of having no responsibilities. In this vampire world, there are other immortal royal families worldwide.

Four royal vampire families reside in the United States of America, divided by location. We ruled the northern parts of the U.S.

The Southern King has caused my entire bloodline pain and misery. To dissolve it, he offered up his daughter. My father agreed and wants me to marry Eleanor Davenport—an easy escape and proposal so he can leave his duties as King.

Eleanor is a southern vampire princess. Marrying her would strengthen our troubling relationship with the family of Davenports. The Davenports ruled the Southern region—States like Texas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Arkansas, etc. But Eleanor's father is a madman. I will never accept him as my father-in-law. He has expressed interest in becoming the only Vampire King in the United States, and he wants to start with taking over the North. The southern vampires are more substantial in numbers but not in strength or intelligence; I don't doubt we'd win if it ever came to a battle between the north and south.

Eleanor's father, King Davenport, tried to convince my father to join his plans to take over the country, but my father refused. Instead, he offered that his son marry his daughter and strengthen our families together as a peace offering.

I'll never want peace with King Davenport, not after what he did to my uncle. But my father has a good heart. Fortunately, I do not, and I take pride in being soulless. Life is just more fun that way.

My father believes in order, peace, and following the rules, no matter how outdated they are.

But me?

I believe that rules are made to be broken. I love life. I love being immortal. I love waking up after I've fucked and partied the night away. I. Love. Life.

"Kallum is the more suitable son to marry Eleanor and become king," I huff. Kallum, the second-born son. My little brother. Everyone calls him The Cherished Prince.

He's the exact opposite of me. Kallum is the calm one, always following the rules, the gentleman . Always kind and polite. Most of the time, na?ve, always believing everyone is good and has good intentions. Everyone in the North loves him, and he fulfills his duties to the people. I fulfill my duties when it comes to military or war aspects, and I thrive in that role.

"Hayden...Kallum could never be king." My mother says it like it's painful for her to admit.

"Why not?" I exclaim.

"Because he's not you! You are the one who is fierce. The strong one. You're the one who can make the hard decisions without blinking an eye. Kallum can be weak sometimes. He's too nice. He's too good?—"

"And I'm what?" I cut my mother off. I press my brows together, looking at them with piercing frustration. My fangs are starting to grow out of anger. When I realize my instability comes through, I close my eyes and turn away to face the floor again, ashamed of my outburst. My fangs retract and unsharpen as I calm myself down. With each deep, shallow breath, I slowly return to normal.

Whatever normal is for us. It's our mask to blend in with humans.

My anger turns into sadness as the realization hits me like a train.

"I'm what? A villain?" My un-beating heart sinks. The facts hurt. My own parents think I'm a monster. They are the only two people destined to love me, programmed to love me by chemistry, and it's almost impossible for them.

I'm not a victim. I made it impossible for them. I take responsibility for that.

My behavior lately hasn't been the best. I've grown addicted to being reckless. I spend most nights drinking and partying with other vampire friends. I'm doing anything and everything I can to avoid conversations about my future like this.

My mother and father look at each other in defeat. They can't get through to me no matter what they say. I will never agree to marry into a family of mad people or take over for my father. There's a reason why I despise the Southern King, and he wants me to marry his daughter so he can gain points with our people. To repair his tarnished image after he turned on his own kind.

I'm unforgiving .

It was always the plan… their plan . Never once had they asked me what I wanted. They never thought to ask themselves that maybe it's time for things to change in an ever-evolving world.

Although, in reality, I still don't know what I want. Even though I'm over three hundred years old, I still don't have the answer if they ask me truthfully.

What do I want if I already have everything money can buy?

Then, they both turn to me with cold, deadpanned expressions.

My father looks through me as always and treats me like an heir and not his firstborn son before telling me with a distant tone.

"You are a villain when you need to be."