The candlelit chamber had been bathed in the rich glow of flickering flames, casting golden reflections across the silk-draped walls. Song-Juliét lounged upon the massive bed in one of Chen’s centuries-old and impressively luxurious houses. They were both on shore leave, and as in many other places around the world, he had owned a property near the harbor—far enough away to enjoy a breathtaking view, yet not so close as to be troubled by the smells or noises of the bustling port.

Song-Juliét’s bare skin gleamed under the ambient light, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and honey clinging to her. She exuded command, her every movement a deliberate act of seduction, her gaze locked onto Chen, her immortal vampire lover, with unmistakable hunger.