"Why did you bring me to Nashville?"

Kieran looked out through the limousine's window. The auction building loomed above them with tacky flashing lights. The humans used to call it the AT&T Building.

This type of industry was below him. The thought of wasting his money at such a place was revolting to him.

"Oh, come on, you used to bid on humans back in the day," said his youngest brother, Blaise.

Kieran scoffed at the comment. He hated bringing up the past. "That was one time."

It was their turn to get out of the car. Blaise sighed. "You're so moody. It's been, what, 300ish years since your incident with Van Helsing? I'm just trying to cheer you up. You haven't properly taken blood since—"

"Because," Kieran snapped. "You know I can't drink blood. Besides, I don't need anyone."

"Sometimes you need to let it go, brother. You act strong on the outside, but I see otherwise." Blaise was annoyingly intuitive. Kieran was lucky it was him who noticed how weak he actually was, and not another one of his siblings. They would've picked him off years ago if they knew how much he had fallen after what Van Helsing, the most famous vampire hunter in history, did to him all those years ago.

He refused to take off his perfect, inner mask. "You should mind your own business."

"...If you say so. Who knows, maybe you'll find something tonight. I have a good feeling. Here," he ruffled through his hot pink purse. Blaise pulled out a masquerade mask. It was simple and not too showy. "Wear this. This auction house requires them."

"Ugh," Kieran sighed. He pushed his burgundy hair away from his eyes to put on the darn thing. At least it mostly concealed his crimson eyes, a symptom of blood deprivation.

When the chauffeur opened their car door, they went inside with the other vampires. It was a mixture of low, middle, and high-ranked individuals. Kieran was actually glad for the black mask; if the guests knew who they were, they'd flock to them, trying to get on their good side. Everyone wanted to be acquaintances with the princes and princesses of Avania.

And if they became acquaintances, those fools would get cocky and ask for money or favors. There were countless times when a quick conversation led to a misunderstanding that they were suddenly friends. Such inconveniences were exactly why Kieran stopped attending most parties and events unless it required his presence.

A long time ago, he would've been the first one there to enjoy life's temptations, but not anymore.

Some of the vampires were drinking from their recently purchased blood slaves in the lobby. The humans were crying. Kieran felt indifferent to humans and the blood slave system in general, but to do that intimate act in public was undignified. The coppery aroma reached his nostrils. His stomach flipped with nausea. If the smell of blood alone could cause this, imagine actually drinking it. During the rare times he fed on the volunteer donators to stay sane, he spent hours heaving over a toilet.

That's why he stopped being the prideful asshole he used to be. He was still full of himself, but it wasn't as bad as it was. Thanks to Van Helsing, Kieran couldn't take blood without being sick, causing him to be incredibly weak. This disability was the reason why their stepfather dethroned him as the next-in-line to be king and gave it to the second-oldest brother.

At the time, it damaged his ego. Kieran was Pride, after all; the worst of the seven deadly sins. A human meeting him for the first time wouldn't know who he was since his mark wasn't visible anymore. During the endless years of torture, that hunter burned off his lion mark on his nape. It was nothing more than an ugly scar now.

He and Blaise walked through the hallways. A human alpha servant caught Blaise's eye. "Hey, do you think I can seduce him?"

Kieran saw the servant, too. Not bad, but not his type. This was so typical of Blaise, the Lust sin. The auction house was like a magnet to him. Blaise was the weakest of the sins; still stronger than most vampires, but not among the royal family. Still, he was more tolerable to be around than his other relatives.

"I'll buy dinner if he offers you his body. You buy if he doesn't."

"Deal." Blaise strutted over in his little black dress. His blonde ponytail swished back and forth from the dramatic catwalk.

Kieran didn't care about the bet. He just wanted an excuse to go find a private room to hide in until his brother was finished having fun. This was not his kind of scene. Being alone with a cup of coffee was more appealing. The bitterness of the drink was more satisfying to him than blood.

He strolled around, determined to seek out a quiet space. Perhaps the roof would be less crowded?

Stepping into the elevator, he pressed the button that would take him to the top. There was no button for the roof, but the highest floor should suffice. There was probably a stairway leading to freedom.

The doors pinged open. Only a few servants in their bondage-type outfits were there. Kieran opened each door, but it was either being used for intense kinks or auctions. God, the pride reeked up here.

You see, Kieran could sense someone's pride from a mile away, as if he was a shark that could detect fresh blood in the water. To him, it smelled like rotting flesh. For Blaise, someone's lust smelled of plums and sweat.

There were only two doors left. The gold door was most likely not it, but it wouldn't hurt to try.

He cracked it open and saw a dim-lit auction suite with outer rooms for buyers. Nope. Right before he closed it, a ridiculously delightful smell enticed him. The scent was like a signature fall candle: brown sugar with a hint of cinnamon. His mouth salivated. In fact, he was almost frothing. His fangs ached. When was the last time he reacted this way?

Like a moth to the flame, he went inside to investigate.

A servant saw him entering and tried to stop him. He bared his teeth at her. She froze from fear and let him go. Wise choice.

Kieran went into one of the smaller rooms. The faint light revealed a short vampire wearing a bejeweled mouse-face mask. He was clicking the bidding button like a madman. His breathing was heavy even though he barely moved a muscle.

Kieran knew who this leech was. Count James was a particularly sadistic vampire who went through his blood slaves like candy. He loved to suck up to the royals. Kieran's been to his mansion once for a societal party, where the main event involved a large, wooden X cross. A group of humans had to do lewd things on each other with the giant prop. You could probably guess what sort of show it was.

Kieran smelled the pride wafting from Count James. His nose twitched. What was this fat parasite so worked up about?

He looked through the tinted window. Everything slowed down.

The scent was coming from the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. He stood on the circle stage, swaying and obviously out of it. His pretty brown eyes kept rolling to the back of his head. Kieran didn't care about his underweight figure, he just wanted to take him to bed and lick every inch of that smooth skin.

There wasn't an ounce of pride in this human. It was rare to meet such a person. What a refreshing thing.

Kieran wanted him.

"$100,000,000." He didn't know the current bid; he just said the first ridiculous number that came to mind.

Count James gasped in surprise at the interruption. He stood up and jabbed Kieran in the chest with his stubby finger. "You can't do that! You didn't click the button! You're probably not even a VIP! Who do you think you are? Guards!" This guy wouldn't shut up about the unfairness.

Kieran took off his mask to show his face and pushed out a wave of pheromones. As expected, Count James backed off into submission, knowing who he was in the presence of. The shaking vampire was about to urinate on himself. "I-I'm sorry. He's yours. Please have mercy on me."

"Anyone else?" he declared.

Try me. I dare you.

After a brief silence, the announcer confirmed the winning bid. "Sold. $100,000,000."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kieran stamped his seal on the transaction paper. His symbol was the shape of a roaring lion's head, the same as his nape's mark if it was still there. For the royal family, their seals were their signatures.

The $100,000,000 amount would make a dent in his savings.

Blaise approached him with raised eyebrows. "You bought a blood slave? For real? How much did you...," He glanced down at the check. His eyes bulged through his disguise.

"Do you require the receipt, Prince Kieran?" asked the counter attendant.

"No. Just prepare the omega to leave immediately."

His brother looked at him incredulously. "OMEGA?!" A few heads turned their way.

"The purchased omega is already in your vehicle, as well as a medical kit, per request. To compensate for the product's bodily damage, the auction house would like to extend an invitation to return and—"

There was a loud commotion in the lobby. A human alpha struggled against the five guards trying to restrain him. His blue eyes darkened from rage and his canines were extended, ready to bite anyone in his way. "Where is he?" the alpha yelled. "Let him go! I swear I'm going to kill all of you! Give me Ter—"

A guard placed a muzzle on the human's face. They dragged him outside to whoever purchased him.

"No. I don't need to come back here," Kieran returned his attention to the employee.

"Are we going to gloss over the fact that you bought an omega? How did you find one? What are you going to do with it?" Blaise asked, wanting the hot tea behind Kieran's reasoning.

Kieran ignored him and headed outside.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Back to New York."