The soft clink of glass against marble echoed in the dimly lit room. Valen sat on a leather stool in his personal mini-bar, a sleek, modern space tucked away in his manor. The polished counters gleamed under the soft glow of pendant lights, and the shelves were lined with an assortment of bottles.

Valen reached for the frosted glass in front of him and took a slow sip of the chilled animal blood he had stored in the fridge. It wasn’t as satisfying as fresh blood, but it was enough to keep ...