Jayden Rivers

Jayden stood near the punch table at the beginning of the year Folks University party, a red plastic cup in hand as he chatted casually with a few friends. The house was filled with the usual noise of laughing and music, the kind of scene that usually didn’t faze him. But then, something in the air hit him—a sharp, intoxicating scent that slammed into his nostrils so violently he almost choked on his drink. It wasn’t just any smell; it was the scent of blood. The unmistakable, spicy-sweet aroma that clung to the air—definitely not human, he realized immediately. There was that usual metallic tang, but also something deeper, more primal. It was the blood of his singer, his mate. His throat burned instantly with thirst, the sudden need to feed threatening to overtake him. His grey-green eyes flickered, the irises flashing an unnatural red as hunger clawed at his control. His vampiric instincts screamed at him to find the source, to sink his fangs into the one who carried this blood before the aching craving consumed him entirely. He scanned the room of mingling students, every instinct telling him to act fast, or risk losing himself to the intense, raw desire coursing through him.