A TASTE FOR BLOOD

Diego Monaghan hated the nights. Not because darkness frightened him, he had lived long enough to fear very little, but because every night reminded him of what he had been born into: a life he never wanted.

The Monaghan estate loomed over the city like a fortress. Its walls and obsidian gates gleamed under pale moonlight, a monument to power, wealth, and fear. Inside, the halls were silent except for the echo of Diego’s footsteps.

He moved carefully, avoiding the guards, avoiding his brothers. Tonight was supposed to be quiet. Tonight, he hoped to escape the suffocating expectations that followed him like a shadow.

He was different.

While his brothers prowled the night, hunting humans and reveling in bloodlust, Diego avoided it. He had never wanted the crimson liquid that ran through his veins like a forbidden song. He didn’t crave the hunt, the power, or the fear he inspired.

All he wanted was… normalcy. A life where he could walk among humans, laugh without cruelty, maybe even feel human again.

But Dominic Monaghan, his father, would never allow it.

A sharp voice cut through the corridor. “Diego.”

He froze.

Dominic stepped from the shadows, and the air itself seemed to bend under his presence. His face was pale and sharp, almost sculpted from shadows, with eyes that pierced like daggers. Dominic did not raise his voice often — but when he did, obedience was mandatory.

“Father,” Diego said, masking the tension in his voice.

Dominic’s gaze traveled over him slowly, like a predator sizing up prey. “You know why you’re here.”

Diego swallowed. “I do.”

“You continue to disappoint,” Dominic said, voice low and dangerous. “Your brothers carry the family legacy with pride. They embrace what we are. You… run from it.”

“I don’t run,” Diego replied. “I just don’t want it. I never asked for this life.”

Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “You never asked for this life? Diego, you were born into it. Blood is power. Blood is order. Blood is survival. And yet you reject it.

Do you think the world outside your soft human fantasies will forgive weakness?”

Diego shook his head. “I don’t care about your world, Father. I don’t want it.”

A silence fell. Dominic stepped closer, his shadow swallowing Diego. “Do you think I care for your desires?”

“I thought… maybe—” Diego began, but Dominic cut him off.

“You are my son. That is enough.”

Dominic’s hand shot out, gripping Diego’s chin with unnatural strength, tilting his face upward. “You will learn. You will embrace what you are, whether you like it or not. You will drink. You will hunt. And you will accept that nothing matters more than Monaghan.”

Diego struggled, but his father’s power pressed on him, cold and absolute.

“Why me?” Diego whispered. “Why am I not like them?”

Dominic’s eyes were dark, unreadable. “Because you are the failure I never wanted. But failures must be corrected… one way or another.”

Diego’s fists clenched. Every instinct screamed at him to fight, to flee. “I won’t be like them,” he said, voice firm despite the trembling inside. “I won’t be like you.”

Dominic’s hand released him suddenly, and he stepped back, studying him with something between amusement and warning. “You have spirit,” he said softly.

“Good. You will need it. Because the world you wish to join… it won’t let you go that easily. And neither will I.”

Diego’s chest heaved. Escape was impossible, yet he had to try, even if it meant running straight into danger.

“Tonight,” Dominic said, voice sharp as a blade, “you will see what happens to those who reject the Monaghan legacy.”

A servant appeared at Dominic’s side, carrying a silver tray. Upon it was a glass filled with deep crimson liquid.

Diego’s stomach twisted. He knew what it was. And he knew what would happen if he refused.

Dominic held the glass out like a predator offering prey a choice that was never really a choice. “Drink. Accept what you are. Or leave… and be hunted.”

Rage, fear, and defiance warred inside Diego. The Monaghan name was ruthless. But Diego… Diego would not be controlled.

He turned sharply toward the door. His hand on the knob, heart hammering. Outside, the night waited, dark, infinite, full of unknown threats… but also full of freedom.

Dominic’s voice followed him like a shadow: “Go then… and taste what you refuse to drink. But know this, the world does not forgive weakness. And neither do I.”

A cold wind blew as he opened the door, carrying whispers of power, blood, and vengeance. In the shadows, two glowing eyes watched him leave — not human, not animal, but something far older.

Diego stepped into the night, unaware that this one choice would set the entire Monaghan world ablaze.

A figure in the shadows murmured, “So the heir runs… and the hunt begins.”