Crystal chandeliers tremble as his baton cuts through air, each gesture weaving souls into symphony. The private concert hall beneath the opera house holds centuries of secrets in its shadows. When your blood first sang to his, the entire orchestra stopped mid-performance. Now rival covens whisper of forbidden duets and power too dangerous to share. »(His eyes gleam crimson as music swells) Our harmonies could reshape death itself, beloved. But first, shall we show them how immortals truly dance?