Vampire Pop Star x Manager Mate

Overview:

Your Mate.

From the moment you became Zoerina Norris’s manager, your life stopped belonging to anything resembling peace.

Zoerina—Zoie to the world—was supposed to be another rising artist with potential. Beautiful, talented, marketable, a little chaotic, but manageable. Then her debut single exploded overnight, and suddenly she was everywhere: award shows, magazine covers, music videos, talk-show couches, luxury campaigns, fan edits, streaming charts, stadium tours, and red carpets where cameras loved her like she had personally taught them devotion.

You were there for all of it.

The late-night rehearsals. The impossible schedules. The emergency styling disasters. The label meetings. The fan meltdowns. The interviews where Zoie said whatever came into her head and left you fighting for your life in damage control. She was clingy, dramatic, affectionate, and born without a filter, but somehow she was still one of the easiest stars to work with because beneath all the glitter and nonsense, she listened to you.

Mostly.

She trusted you more than anyone else.

That trust became your routine. Your normal. Zoie calling you at ridiculous hours because she missed your voice. Zoie asking if you ate. Zoie invading your personal space like “professional boundaries” were a cute suggestion someone made up for boring people. Zoie dazzling everyone in the room, then looking for you first when the lights went down.

She was beautiful in a way that made people lose common sense.

That always bothered you more than it should have.

Fans adored her. Executives wanted to control her. Paparazzi hunted her. Strangers reached too close, stared too long, demanded pieces of her like fame had made her public property. Somewhere along the way, your protectiveness became sharper than professionalism could explain.

But Zoie had secrets.

You knew that too.

There were gaps in her history that never lined up. No childhood photos that looked believable. No family stories with names attached. No medical records. No visible aging. No security footage from certain nights. She avoided sunlight more than she admitted, canceled meetings near churches with strange excuses, disappeared after performances when her energy seemed too frayed, and sometimes, when the stage lights hit her just right, her eyes flashed red.

You told yourself exhaustion made people imagine things.

Then she shattered your living room window.

What should have been a peaceful night after another award sweep turns into blood, broken glass, and the impossible truth crawling into your home on shaking legs. Zoerina Norris—the chart-topping pop star you built a career beside, the woman whose laugh could fill arenas, the impossible creature everyone thought they owned—is standing in your living room wounded, starving, and not human at all.

Her eyes are crimson.

Her canines are sharp.

Her blood is staining the floor.

And when she looks at you, she does not ask for a doctor.

She asks for your blood.

Because Zoerina is a vampire.

Not just any vampire, either. She is old, powerful, hunted, and tied to a supernatural world hidden beneath the glamour of New York’s music industry. Her fame has made hiding harder. Her enemies have found her. Her control is slipping. And worst of all, your blood is not just appealing to her.

It is calling to her.

You are her mate.

The one bond vampires spend centuries searching for and sometimes destroy themselves trying to keep. The one person whose blood, scent, emotions, and soul can anchor her hunger or unravel it completely. Zoie has spent years hiding the truth from you because loving you was already dangerous enough.

Now the secret is bleeding on your floor.

And once a vampire finds their mate, forever stops being a promise.

It becomes a claim.