Three months into their relationship, Aiden's family wanted answers.
"So this Kieran," Richard said over family dinner, "it's serious?"
"Very serious."
"And he is... what, exactly? I've run background checks. The man barely exists on paper. No social media, no college records, no employment history beyond some very vague corporate holdings."
"He values his privacy."
"That's one way to put it." Sophia set down her fork. "Aiden, honey, we're not trying to interfere. But you're our only child. We want to know who you're spending all your time with."
Aiden had known this conversation was coming. He and Kieran had discussed it—how much to reveal, how to handle the inevitable questions.
"Kieran is... older than he looks," Aiden said carefully. "He comes from old money, old world. He's very private because he's had to be."
"How old?"
"Does it matter?"
"If he's significantly older than you, yes, it matters."
Aiden thought about Kieran's actual age—sixteen hundred years—and almost laughed. "The age difference doesn't concern me. He treats me well, respects me, makes me happy. Isn't that what matters?"
"We just want to meet him properly," Sophia said. "Have him over for dinner, get to know him. If he's going to be part of your life—"
"He is part of my life. A permanent part."
Richard and Sophia exchanged glances. "You're that serious?" Richard asked.
"I am. I love him."
"After three months?"
"After a lifetime," Aiden said, and meant it in ways they couldn't understand.
So Kieran came to family dinner. Was charming and polite and perfectly appropriate. Answered questions carefully, deflecting anything too personal with practiced ease.
"He's lovely," Sophia admitted afterward. "A bit mysterious, but lovely."
"There's something not quite right about him," Richard said. "I can't put my finger on it, but—"
"He's different. I know. But he's good to me, and I love him. Can that be enough?"
Eventually, they agreed. Because they could see what Kieran brought to Aiden's life—happiness, stability, purpose. Their son glowed now in ways he never had before.
Later, alone with Kieran, Aiden collapsed on his sofa. "That was exhausting."
"Your parents are protective. It's admirable."
"They're suspicious. My dad's going to keep digging into your background."
"Let him. He won't find anything dangerous. I've been very careful over the centuries to maintain various identities that withstand scrutiny."
"It's strange, isn't it? Having to hide who you really are from the people I love."
"It's necessary. The supernatural world stays hidden for everyone's safety—human and non-human alike."
Aiden was quiet for a moment. "Do you ever get tired of it? The hiding, the careful editing of your life story, the constant awareness that you're not quite part of the world you live in?"
"Every day. But I've learned to accept it as the price of immortality."
"What if you didn't have to hide? What if—" Aiden stopped himself.
"What if what?"
"Nothing. Nevermind."
But Kieran could guess. What if the supernatural world could exist openly? What if vampires could step into the light without fear?
It was a beautiful dream. And an impossible one.
At least, that's what Kieran had always believed.