The Vampire Lord's Arranged Bride

After graduation, I interned for two years in the vampire neutral territories with my mentor, a seasoned blood healer. There were no formal healing halls or fresh blood supplies—more often than not, I tended to the wounded amid battlefields strewn with silver blades and blood curses. My adoptive father, Kieran Valerius, the supreme ruler of the vampire realm, was furious. He feared I'd fall for a new vampire or lowly blood thrall, abandon him, and get dragged into lesser vampires' endless infighting. So he arranged a fiancé for me: Samuel Hecate, a renowned Vampire Prince from the oldest northern vampire family, admired for both his looks and lineage. He ordered me back to the royal capital for our engagement ceremony, threatening to use a forbidden vampire rite to force me if I refused. I had no choice but to comply. He told me to pick an engagement ring at a jewelry boutique. Inside, my eyes fixed on a gold-set pigeon-blood ruby ring—its rich, blood-like red glowed like frozen blood in crystal, reminiscent of a vampire's eyes at night, beautiful yet untouchable. Just as I reached for it, a sharp female voice cut in: "I want that ring—give it to me." Before I could react, the manager snatched it from my hand, nearly scratching me. I stood straight, calm: "First come, first served. Is this how you treat your guests?" The elaborately dressed noblewoman turned, glaring at me contemptuously: "That ring costs 20 million blood crystal coins. Can you afford it, commoner? Samuel and I grew up together—I make the rules here." I almost laughed. How ironic—Samuel was my fiancé. I took out my vampire communicator and called him: "Samuel, your childhood friend just stole the engagement ring I chose. What do you think I should do?"