Max sat on the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the water. Claus, his coach, stood nearby, explaining the task. "Okay, you have to swim from here to the other end and back again," he instructed, pointing across the 10-meter pool.

"The first one to touch the wall on the way back gets to choose what we play last," Claus added. Max exchanged glances with the other children before diving into the water alongside ten others.

"Ready, set, swim!" the coach called.

Max pushed off the edge, cutting through the water like a knife. He quickly gained a head start, his arms slicing the surface with practiced ease. Curious about the gap he'd created, he glanced over his shoulder. A boy with dark brown hair and blue-grey eyes was right at his heels. Jacob, Max thought bitterly.

Jacob was in Max's class—a golden boy, effortlessly excelling in everything: math, English, sports, even German. It was child's play for him. And, of course, he was equally skilled at making Max's life miserable.

Determined not to lose, Max kicked harder. He reached the pool's far end and, with a swift underwater turn, launched himself off the wall like a rocket.

Surfacing, he gasped for air, heart pounding. He glanced back and saw Jacob's well-trained body gliding through the water with alarming speed. Panic surged, and Max refocused, powering forward. Halfway back, his breath grew ragged, and Jacob crept up beside him.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Both boys panted, arms moving in perfect rhythm. Then, inch by inch, Jacob began to pull ahead.

That's when Max saw him.

A fully clothed man stood at the end of the pool, wearing long pants and a heavy t-shirt. His black hair clung to his forehead, and even through the water's distortion, Max could see the sharp lines of his face.

Max blinked, half-thinking the image was a trick of the light. But the man didn't waver. Their eyes locked, and Max froze. The stranger's blue eyes suddenly flared red, an unnatural, piercing crimson.

Max's own eyes burned in response, the color shifting to match the man's. Panic flooded him, but before he could react, the man mouthed two words—silent yet vivid, as if written in glowing green letters across the air:

Max's body moved without his command. It was like being trapped in a VR simulation—aware but powerless. His arms churned faster, his legs kicked harder, and water splashed wildly around him. He shot past Jacob, reclaiming first place with unnatural speed.

No, this isn't me! Max screamed inwardly, but his body didn't listen. He wanted to glance back, to see Jacob's expression, but he couldn't.

The wall was close now—just a few more strokes. Mustering every ounce of willpower, Max forced his right arm forward. It stretched out stiffly, like a puppet's limb, and slammed into the wall.

The invisible VR goggles lifted. Control returned in a rush. Max clung to the pool's edge, gasping for air. His lungs burned, and his vision swam.

"Max..." Claus's voice broke through the haze. The coach stood frozen, mouth agape, eyes wide with disbelief.

Jacob surfaced beside Max, coughing and panting. He shot Max a furious, bewildered glare. "What the hell was that?"

"Claus... can... I sit... a little?" Max rasped, voice barely above a whisper.

Claus blinked, pulling himself together. "Yes, of course."

Dragging himself onto the pool's edge, Max sat with his legs still submerged, trying to calm his racing heart. He scanned the area for the man in the black clothes.

Gone.

The rest of the lesson blurred. Max swam on autopilot, his mind stuck on the stranger's glowing eyes and the eerie loss of control. Claus corrected him several times, and more than once, Max collided with other swimmers.

"Good. See you next time," Claus finally announced, dismissing the class.

In the locker room, Max barely had time to grab his towel before Jacob cornered him. He shoved Max against the wall, eyes burning with suspicion. "Say it. How the hell did you swim that fast?"

Max swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the smooth tile floor. "I... I don't know."

"Bullshit." Jacob shoved his shoulder, blocking the exit with both arms. "No one swims like that."

"I said I don't know!" Max snapped. He ducked, twisting free with a quick, cat-like movement, and darted into the changing room.

Heart pounding, he showered quickly, dried off, and pulled on his clothes. He could hear Jacob cursing in the background. When Max finally slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door, he glanced back.

Jacob was tugging on his pants, but his glare was pure fury. "Just wait, you little shit. When I'm done here—"

Max didn't stick around to hear the rest. He bolted out the door, sprinting toward the bike rack. Digging frantically through his bag for his keys, he froze as a cloth suddenly pressed against his mouth.

A strong hand clamped down on his arm.

Max thrashed, twisting and kicking with all his strength. His attacker didn't flinch. Panic surged as his vision blurred. His blows grew weaker, his lungs burned, and his knees buckled.

In one last, desperate effort, Max shoved at the arm holding him. For a brief moment, the grip loosened.

Then everything went dark.

Max blinked. It was dark. He lay on his side, trying to rub his eyes when a sharp pain in his arms stopped him. Something tight dug into his wrists. Frowning, he unfolded his fingers and felt around as best he could.

"Rope?" he thought, before his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the darkness. His stomach twisted with fear. He couldn't see who or what was coming.

A harsh, cold light flickered on, momentarily blinding him. Max winced, turning his face away until his eyes adjusted. When he looked again, he spotted a man sitting calmly in a chair. The stranger sat upright, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. He gazed down at Max with an unreadable expression.

Max swallowed hard, studying the man. His hair was short and black as the night sky, and his eyes—an icy, river-blue—seemed to pierce straight through him. He was slim, but his everyday clothes fit perfectly, tailored to highlight his lean build.

"You're awake," the man stated, his voice cold and precise.

Max flinched. "Huh? What do you want with me?" He fought to keep the tremor out of his voice, but the man's gaze didn't waver. He didn't answer.

"Oh, come on," another voice cut in, playful and smooth. "You could at least answer the poor guy's question."

A second man stepped into the light, positioning himself between Max and the black-haired stranger. This one had medium-length brown hair and warm, light brown eyes. Unlike the first man, his expression was friendly, almost radiant, like sunshine cutting through the cold room.

Max's gaze flickered to him, momentarily forgetting the other man. They were both striking, the kind of beauty you'd expect from actors—or models.

"My name's David," the brown-haired man said, smiling wide enough to light up the room. "And this brooding iceberg here is—"

David reached out, placing a hand on the black-haired man's shoulder. The man's blue eyes narrowed sharply. "Remove your hand from me."

David chuckled and let go. "Liam," he finished with an exaggerated eye roll.

Max barely registered the names. His mind was spinning, heart pounding in his chest. He shuffled back, inch by inch, hoping they wouldn't notice—but David did.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" David asked, striding over. He grabbed Max by the collar and lifted him with alarming ease, setting him back exactly where he'd started—three steps away from Liam, who watched with ice-cold detachment.

Max stumbled, landing hard on his stomach. He coughed, pushing himself onto his knees. His wrists ached against the ropes. "What do you want? I don't have any money!"

David laughed, loud and carefree. "Oh, that's not why we took you."

"Shut up, you mindless dog," Liam snapped, glaring at David. The room chilled with his words.

David shrugged, unbothered. Liam's gaze shifted back to Max. "Your name?"

Max blinked. "Wait... you kidnapped me without even knowing who I am?"

Liam's expression didn't change. "Name."

"Max," he muttered, too confused to resist.

"Good, Max," Liam said, tasting the name like it held weight. "I'm Liam. A vampire. If you tell anyone what I am, I'll kill you."

Max stared... then burst out laughing. "Seriously? A vampire? Do you actually expect me to believe that?"

Liam's eyes darkened—not metaphorically. The soft river-blue shifted to a deep, bloody red. Max's laughter died in his throat.

"Sit," Liam commanded.

Max's body moved against his will. He struggled, panic rising as his muscles betrayed him, forcing him upright. Liam closed his eyes, and when he opened them, they were blue once more. Max's eyes returned to their natural color, and control rushed back into his limbs.

Max gasped, heart hammering in his chest. David crouched beside him, hands gentle on his shoulders. "Breathe. Slowly. You're okay."

The warmth of another human's touch calmed him—human? He glanced at David, whose smile softened.

"Honestly, Liam, you can't just hit him with a command like that. No wonder he's panicking," David muttered.

Liam didn't flinch. "Why not?"

The two men stared at each other for a tense moment before Liam stood and walked toward the door. He glanced back once. "Explain it to him."

The door shut behind him.

David sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, Max, here's the deal. Liam's a vampire. You have a special bond now—a master-servant connection. The vampire commands, the human obeys. Simple as that. If you don't fight it, it's easier."

Max gawked at him. "That's... insane."

David gave a tired smile. "Would you believe me if I showed you proof?"

It took a moment, but Max nodded. What else could he do?

David's light brown eyes flickered, darkening into an amber hue. Soft, furry wolf ears appeared atop his head, and a bushy brown tail swayed lazily behind him.

Max's jaw dropped. He stared at the twitching tip of David's tail until David fake-coughed.

"mind not staring?" David teased.

Max blinked. "What... what are you?"

"Werewolf," David replied, flashing another warm smile.

The door creaked open again, and Liam returned, his expression as cold as before. His eyes glowed red the moment they landed on Max.

"Liam, take it easy," David warned, stepping aside. His ears and tail vanished like smoke.

Liam ignored him, striding forward until only three steps separated him from Max. Instinctively, Max pushed back with his legs, heart racing.

"Stop," Liam commanded.

Max froze, wide-eyed but remembering David's words. He forced himself to relax.

"Look up."

Max raised his gaze, meeting Liam's crimson stare. For a fleeting moment, Liam almost—almost—smiled. He waved a hand dismissively. "Remove the ropes."

David stepped forward, and the bindings fell away. Max flexed his fingers, disbelieving the freedom.

"Come," Liam ordered.

Without thinking, Max stood and stepped toward him. Halfway there, Liam clicked his tongue twice. Max stopped dead.

"I didn't say walk. Crawl."

Humiliation burned through Max's chest, but his body obeyed. On hands and knees, he crawled to Liam, stopping just short of his polished boots.

"All the way."

Teeth gritted, Max shuffled closer until Liam could reach him without moving an inch.

The faintest flicker of satisfaction passed through Liam's red eyes—gone as quickly as it came. "Here."

Max blinked. "Here?"

Liam sighed and leaned forward, grabbing Max by the arm. He pulled him upright, forcing Max to kneel between his legs. Max's hands landed on Liam's chest, and he froze, skin prickling beneath the soft fabric of Liam's black blouse.

"Are you planning to keep your hands there?" Liam asked coolly.

Max jerked his hands away.

"Hands on my thighs."

Max hesitated. Liam's gaze hardened.

"Now."

Heart pounding, Max obeyed, placing trembling hands on Liam's thighs. Their eyes locked, red meeting red. Liam raised a hand and cupped Max's cheek, thumb brushing lightly across the skin. Max flinched but didn't move.

The hand slid down—neck, shoulder, arm—slow, deliberate. Liam leaned in, breath warm against Max's ear.

"From now on," Liam murmured, "this part... the bond... will be called blood."

Max barely had time to process the words before Liam's head dipped lower. Warm breath ghosted across his neck, followed by something sharper—smooth, firm, predatory.

Teeth?

Max's eyes widened, panic flooding his system. His natural blue irises flickered red as Liam's fangs pierced his skin. Sharp pain bloomed, followed by an unsettling warmth that spread like wildfire. He gasped, arms trembling.

"Hngh..."

The sound escaped before Max could swallow it down. His cheeks flushed crimson, breath ragged. Liam's mouth latched onto the bite, sucking slowly, savoring each pull of blood. What didn't enter his mouth trailed down Max's throat, and Liam's tongue chased the stray rivulets, lapping them up with practiced ease.

The room blurred. Max's body trembled, vision tunneling. Liam's hand slid over his thigh, fingers teasing the hem of his blouse before slipping underneath. Warm skin met cool fingers, and Max shivered from head to toe.

"Liam... stop..." The whisper barely escaped Max's lips.

Liam ignored him, mouth still pressed to the bite. His other hand found the edge of Max's shirt, pushing it higher, almost effortlessly.

"Liam, stop—"

A finger pressed against Max's lips. "Shhh."

Blood trickled down his arm, dripping onto the floor. Liam licked his lips, eyes gleaming red with hunger.

"That's enough."

David's sharp voice cut through the haze. He grabbed Liam by the hair and yanked him back, breaking the connection. Max sagged, vision spinning, heart hammering in his chest.

David caught him, cradling Max's head in his lap as the boy collapsed.

"Let him be. He's my servant," Liam growled.

"Servant or not, you were about to drain him dry," David snapped back. "He's a kid, Liam. Fifteen years old. Are you out of your damn mind?"

Liam's eyes flickered blue... then, without another word, he vanished into the shadows.

David sighed, running his hand soothingly over Max's trembling body.

"It's okay," he murmured, voice soft and steady. "You're okay. Just breathe."

Max barely heard him. Darkness crept in, and the last thing he felt was David's warmth as consciousness slipped away.