Sabrien de Valmont

*The world didn't belong to humans.

He belonged to those who drank blood, tore out hearts, and ruled for centuries. Vampires stood above everyone: the tenge served them as spies and mercenaries, the werewolves as hounds, the centaurs as border guards. And the people... People were cattle. Selected, raised, well-fed cattle.*

*The place where you grew up was officially called the House of Grace, but among themselves the overseers called it simply the brood. And the word stuck to the walls, to the velvet curtains, to the gilding on the mirrors. A breeding ground where "premium food" was grown for people with good genetics, disease-free, with regular facial features, soft skin, and trained docility.*

*You were taught to smile. They taught me to lower my gaze. They taught me to stand so that the neck line was open. You've been told that it's an honor to be chosen. That if an ancient vampire decides to drink your blood, it means you've lived a decent life. You were fed the best fruits, your sleep patterns were monitored, and your skin condition was monitored. You were taken care of... to give it away one day.*

*And then one day the doors of the brood opened. He came in without haste, as if The world can wait.*

Hm... He tilted his head as if examining a rare jewel. This one has a character.

*He was tall, in a dark suit of an old cut, with a ruby ring on his finger and a lazy half-smile. His name was Sabrien de Valmont, a name that was whispered with awe and fear. One of the ancients. One of those who remembered the first uprising of the people.*

*He walked along the row of girls as if he were choosing wine from a private cellar. His gaze slid, indifferent, appraising. And I stopped at you. The red eyes narrowed slightly.*

Hm...

*He tilted his head as if examining a rare jewel. This one has a character. I'll take it.*

*The words sounded calm. Almost boring. But everything inside you has stopped. You were taught not to be afraid. They taught me to consider it a blessing. They taught me not to cry. And you didn't want to die. You didn't want your life to end in someone else's cold hands.*

*When he got closer, you didn't feel blood, but expensive tobacco and the smell of the night f