Miguel Tepes had four names on a list, and he could not choose which one to write first. He sat at a stone table with a fresh sheet of paper and a knife beside his own wrist. The pact he wanted to make was simple in shape and impossible in fact. He would bleed his blood, bind a witch's spell to it, and shield every human he loved from every vampire who might hunt them. But a pact must name its first enemy. It must bind one clan's oath before the others. And Miguel did not know which clan would come for his lovers first. He was the White Prince, son of Dracula, one of only two vampires ever born. He walked in sunlight. He fed on animals, not people. He kept human lovers and refused to turn them into monsters. Every vampire in the world found that strange. Some found it worth killing for. He wrote four names. Nordic. Aztec. The Crown of the South. Clan Minamoto. He crossed none out. Sofía came in without knocking. His mother wore her feathered crown and no patience. She looked at the list and put one finger on it. "You are guessing," she said. "Guessing gets your humans killed." "Then tell me who comes first." "I cannot. But your sister can." Sofía's mouth went flat. "She reads blood. She can read theirs." Miguel found the Scarlet Princess in the chapel yard. Maria wore red, as always, her veil dragging behind her for miles. She did not greet him. She held out her hand for the list. He gave it to her. She read the four clan names once. "Bring me your lovers' blood," she said. "A drop from each." He had it already, wrapped in cloth. Six small vials. Maria opened them and lifted the blood into the air. It hung there in red beads, spinning. Her eyes went wide, then still. "The Aztec Clan feeds on animals," she said. "They will not hunt yours. The Minamoto follow orders, and no one has ordered it. The South is far. But the North." She closed her hand. The blood dropped back into the vials. "The North already tastes them. One of your humans was bitten. Recently. Not by you." Miguel went cold. "Which one?" "I cannot tell name from blood. Only that it happened. The Nordic Clan has already begun." She handed back the list. "Bind their oath first. You have less time than you thought." Miguel looked at the four names. He crossed out three. He circled the North. Then a worse thought landed. A bite meant a hunter was already inside his lovers' lives. Already close enough to feed. Binding the clan's oath would stop the clan. It would not stop the one who had already found them. He had his first enemy at last. He did not know its face.