Chapter 1 - Crimson and Silver [1/3]

Eryndor was a sprawling neon beast that never slept. Towering skyscrapers pierced the night sky, their glass exteriors glowing with holographic advertisements and luminescent signs. 

Flying vehicles zipped between elevated roads. The streets below pulsed with music and the chatter of thousands. It was a city of indulgence, intrigue, and relentless ambition—a perfect reflection of Damian Moroi. 

Damian leaned against the edge of a private balcony on the seventy-fifth floor of Elysium, the most exclusive nightclub in Eryndor. The air was thick with the scent of spiced liquors, expensive perfumes, and the faint metallic tang of energy cores powering the building. His crimson eyes, sharp and predatory, surveyed the dance floor below—a sea of writhing bodies under flashing lights. 

Belonging to the large middle-class of Eryndor, these people had all come out to celebrate in honour of the Moroi heir, either hoping against hope to be noticed by those on higher floors, or simply to enjoy one of the notorious Moroi parties, now that Damian had waved the entrance fee. 

To his right, his friend and cousin Lucian leaned lazily against the glass railing, arms crossed in front of his chest. His platinum blond hair fell over sharp blue eyes, reflecting the club lights. 

Lucian swirled the golden liquid in his glass, watching the way the light refracted through it. "So, eighteen. The newest heir to reach adulthood, and a notoriously talented one at that. Your name is on every tongue as the city watches, waiting to see how you'll affect the delicate balance of power between the families. Tell me, does it feel like freedom or a leash?" 

Damian tilted his head, pretending to consider the question. Sipping his drink, he looked down at the crowd below and shook his head. "Neither. A leash suggests someone else is holding it." 

Lucian chuckled, shaking his head. "You really never let anyone win, do you?" 

Damian smirked, raising his glass. "That would imply I'd need to lose. Surely you're not suggesting something so crass?" 

Laughing, Lucian toasted his cousin and shook his head. "Never!" 

With them on their private floor, a small crowd—family, friends, sycophants—laughed and clinked expensive glasses filled with crystalline liquor. They were all dressed in tailored suits or designer dresses, but even among the wealthiest youth of Eryndor, Damian stood out. 

His black suit, threaded with subtle silver runes, hugged his tall, lean frame. At his side hung his catalyst: Nox Aeternum, a slender sword with a gleaming black, slightly curved blade and a red ruby embedded in the hilt. 

A catalyst was no ordinary weapon—it was the key to one's ascension path, the vessel through which an individual could channel and refine their power. Some used weapons, others armour, clothes, or jewellery, but everyone possessed a catalyst. 

At least, everyone who could afford one… 

Damian himself inherited this one from his late father. It was both his weapon and his anchor in the chaotic storm of power that defined Eryndor's elite. 

"Master Damian," purred a woman's voice from behind him. One of the hired hostesses approached, her minimal dress clinging like liquid gold to her frame. "Your guests are waiting for the next toast." 

Turning around to face his VIP guests, Damian raised his glass high, his crimson eyes glinting in the dim light. "To power, pleasure, and never knowing when to stop!" 

The group erupted into cheers. Glasses clinked while Damian downed his in one smooth motion. The liquor burned pleasantly down his throat, leaving a faint aftertaste of honey and stardust, a light designer drug. 

But even amidst the revelry and the slight high, Damian's cunning gaze never once wavered. "Someday, even you have to let down your guard, cousin," Lucian snickered, lazily enjoying himself with the body of a pretty partygoer he'd just beckoned towards himself. 

A predatory grin spread across Damian's lips. Sipping a new drink, he shook his head. "Forget it, Lucian. Intrigue and manipulation are our family's trademarks, and I refuse to be a wastrel. One day, this city will thrive under Moroi rule, with me at its head!" 

Lucian scoffed and groaned at his cousin's refusal to let himself go completely. "Gods, you and Aunt Lavinia are one and the same! Ambition is good and all, but life is better when you let yourself go once in a while!" 

Damian's eyes shone, but he didn't answer. With a lazy smile, he continued surveying the guests, accepting any congratulations or gifts that came his way—gifts that immediately disappeared into his catalyst's storage space. 

From the moment he could speak, his mother had instructed him in the art of manipulation, diplomacy, and politics. Her lessons had created a burning ambition inside him, making sure he viewed these parties as much for enjoyment as for gathering information, creating relationships, and projecting a persona to the masses. 

She wanted him to be prepared to survive in the real world, and Damian refused to disappoint her. Despite their family trade, his mother, Lavinia, loved him to a near-obsessive level, and Damian responded in kind. 

'Speaking of relationships…' he suddenly interrupted his own thoughts with a different one, full of desire and curiosity. 'I wonder when she'll get here...' 

Just at that moment, a small, black screen appeared on his cornea, displaying a phone and the name Lyra. "Incoming call, Damian," an emotionless but female voice echoed in his mind. Nodding, he accepted the call. 

Lyra, one of his women and personal guards, immediately replaced the black screen. "Master? Luna is here," she spoke matter-of-factly but with unmistakable warmth and devotion in her tone. 

A slow grin crept onto his lips. "Thank you, Lyra." 

Immediately hanging up, he turned around to sweep his eyes over the partying crowd below again. 

Amid the bustling chaos of the ground level, a figure caught his eye. Walking briskly, her silhouette displayed sharply against the flickering, colourful club lights. She was a young woman, slender and athletic, with long silver hair. Even at this distance, Damian recognized her. 

Luna Lykos. 

She wasn't dressed for the usual nightlife scene. A dark jacket, slim pants, and boots designed for quick movement—not style. She was trying to remain inconspicuous, but in a city like Eryndor, even the shadows had eyes. 

"Lucian, cover for me," Damian said abruptly, handing his empty glass to his cousin. 

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Going somewhere, birthday boy?" 

Without looking back, Damian casually shrugged, a small smile on his lips. "Don't worry, I'll be back. Just going to spend a few hours with you-know-who." 

Without waiting for a response, Damian slipped through the crowd on the balcony, his tailored coat billowing behind him as he disappeared into the private elevator. He could feel Nox Eternum hum faintly at his side, sensing his rising anticipation. 

Behind him, Lucian was stunned for a moment but then smirked and shook his head. "Right, Luna." Chuckling, he engaged himself back on the dance floor. "Those two really were made for each other… somehow… Blood- and Moonkin don't usually get along, but here we are. Well, whatever. Let's see if I can find some company for myself tonight." 

As the elevator descended, Damian grasped his catalyst and absorbed it into his body. He had kept it at his side only as a status symbol, but he had no need for that now. 

When the doors opened, he was immediately hit with the fierce, grey, almond-shaped eyes of the one he was looking for. "Luna," he grinned. 

Before the girl could respond, Damian had already pulled her into the elevator. She let out a startled gasp, her eyes widening briefly. But a soft giggle escaped her lips when she recognized her assailant. 

Recovering quickly, she let herself be pulled along, her hand gripping his coat sleeve tightly. Damian gave a new command to the AI operating the elevator. The doors closed rapidly, and their cabin started descending further. 

Inside, the two were already embroiled in a heated kiss. 

When they separated, Luna was glaring at him, but there was a playful quality to it. "Happy birthday, Damian. But where are we going? We're supposed to finish our work on Nerissa tonight, remember? It's supposed to be your gift!" 

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Damian pulled her closer and pecked her lips once again, a confident smile on his lips. "Don't worry, I just want to have a few moments alone with you." Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear. "The rest comes after…" 

A shiver went through Luna's body. Playfully, she licked Damian's ear. "Good… I'm looking forward to it."