LUCIEN’S POV

I hadn’t spoken to Vera for three days since the ceremony was postponed.

The ceremony was now tomorrow night.

Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t trust myself around her. Every time I saw her, I remembered the taste of her blood from our first bonding, sweet, intoxicating, and utterly unique. What I never expected was how difficult it would be to look into her eyes and watch the light within them dim because of my choices.

I found her in the east wing, staring out over the estate grounds that stretched beyond our lands, lands that would soon be joined with ours through my union with Celene. Vera’s slender fingers traced patterns on the window glass, her reflection fragmenting as clouds passed over the moon outside.

“We need to talk,” I said, closing the door behind me with a decisive click.

She didn’t turn immediately, her shoulders tensing at the sound of my voice. “Now you want to talk? After walking out on me and announcing your decision to the entire council without so much as a warning?”

“Like I told you, it wasn’t personal, Vera.”

That got her attention. She whirled around, eyes flashing with something dangerous, something that reminded me why I’d chosen her in the first place, before politics and bloodlines had stripped away what was between us.

“Not personal?” Her laugh was hollow, devoid of any warmth. “You’re taking a second mate, Lucien. How is that not personal?”

I kept my expression neutral, even as something twisted uncomfortably in my chest. This was why I’d avoided this conversation, why I’d let the announcement speak for itself.

“It’s about the house,” I said, my voice deliberately cold. “Everything I do is about ensuring our survival, our strength.”

“And I’m what? A liability?” She stepped closer, and I caught her scent, honey and jasmine, tinged with the unique sweetness that had always called to my vampire nature. “Tell me, Lord Lucien, what exactly have I done to endanger the mighty House Shadowmere?”

“This isn’t about what you’ve done. It’s about what needs to be done now.”

“And that’s Celene?” Vera’s voice cracked slightly on the name. “That’s your solution?”

I moved to the window, looking out at the territories that had been under Shadowmere protection for centuries. “The Blackthorne House controls the northern blood banks. Their alliance with the eastern covens gives them leverage we can’t ignore.”

“So this is politics?” Vera pressed. “A strategic move on the immortal chessboard?”

“It’s survival,” I growled, turning back to her. “The council elders have been clear. Our position is weakening. Three neighboring houses have formed alliances that exclude us. The blood supplies have been restricted for two seasons. We need this union.”

Vera crossed her arms, her eyes never leaving mine. “And our union? What was that? A mistake to be corrected?”

“Don’t twist my words.”

“Then give me straight ones!” Her voice rose, edged with desperation. “Why her? Why now? Is it because I’m human? Because I don’t have the right bloodline? Is that why I’m being cast aside like yesterday’s scraps?”

The accusation hung in the air between us. There was truth in her words, truth I wasn’t prepared to acknowledge, not even to myself. The door opened before I could respond, and Celene glided in, her red hair catching the moonlight.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she purred, though her satisfied smile suggested she’d been listening. “I thought perhaps we could settle this matter more… definitively.”

“Celene,” I warned, but she was already moving closer to Vera with predatory grace.

“You want to know why he’s choosing me?” Celene asked, her voice silky with malice. “Perhaps we should show you.”

Before I could stop her, Celene had pulled a small silver blade from her bodice, drawing it across her wrist in one swift motion. The scent of her blood filled the room, rich, powerful, with undertones of ancient magic.

“Taste,” she commanded, extending her wrist toward me. “Show her what real compatibility feels like.”

I hesitated, my fangs extending involuntarily at the scent. “This isn’t necessary.”

“Isn’t it?” Celene’s green eyes gleamed with triumph. “You’ve been denying yourself, Lucien. Denying what your body craves. Show her what a true mate can offer.”

Against my better judgment, I found myself drawn to her wrist. The first taste of her blood was like liquid fire, burning through my veins with raw power. I groaned against her skin, my control slipping as the ancient magic in her bloodline called to mine.

“Yes,” Celene whispered, her free hand tangling in my hair. “This is what you’ve been missing. This is what she can never give you.”

I pulled away abruptly, her blood still singing in my veins, making me feel more alive than I had in years. When I looked at Vera, I saw something break in her expression.

“I see,” she said quietly. “It’s not just about politics, is it? It’s about what flows in our veins.”

“Vera—”

“No,” she interrupted, moving toward us with sudden determination. “If this is about blood, then let’s make it about blood.”

Before I could stop her, she had grabbed the blade from Celene’s hand and drawn it across her own wrist. The scent that filled the room was nothing like Celene’s, where Celene’s blood was fire and power, Vera’s was moonlight and mystery, with something underneath that made my ancient soul recognize something it had been searching for.

“Taste mine,” she demanded, extending her wrist toward me. “Compare us properly.”

“Vera, you don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “You want to know which of us is the better mate? Then find out.”

Celene laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. “Oh, this is rich. The little human thinks she can compete with me? Lucien, show her how wrong she is.”

She still didn’t get it. Most of them didn’t.

My bloodline was old—revered, feared—but it was hollowing out. The strength that once defined House Shadowmere had thinned over generations. Centuries of selective breeding and in-house unions had maintained status, not power. The old families kept pretending nothing was wrong. But I’d seen the decline firsthand. Fewer gifts. Weaker senses. Slower healing. The rot was already under the surface.

Some scholars believed that introducing human blood into the line could reactivate dormant traits—shock the blood into adapting. It was only a theory, mostly dismissed. But I saw potential. Not in just any human—but in Vera.

She wasn’t chosen for her charm or her pedigree. She wasn’t trained, and she didn’t flatter. She asked hard questions. She didn’t back down. There was something in her that didn’t bend, and I needed that.

The bond between us wasn’t just affection—it was a calculated risk. A political move. A biological test.

I looked between them, Celene with her triumphant smile and Vera with her chin raised in defiance. Something in Vera’s expression called to me, something that had nothing to do with politics or bloodlines and everything to do with the woman who had stood by me for three years.

I took her wrist in my hands, noting how small and delicate it felt against my vampiric strength. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” she replied.

The first taste of her blood was like coming home after centuries of wandering. Where Celene’s blood was all power and magic, Vera’s was something deeper, something that spoke to the very core of what I was. There was power there, yes, but it was different. Ancient. Royal.

I pulled away, staggering slightly as the implications hit me. “What are you?”

Vera’s eyes widened, and I saw that they were no longer the warm brown I remembered. They were gold now, with flecks of silver that seemed to pulse with their own light.

“What do you mean?” she asked, though her voice carried a strange new resonance.

Celene’s smile had vanished, replaced by something that looked almost like fear. “That’s impossible. She’s human. I can smell it on her.”

“Can you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I looked at Vera again, seeing her as if for the first time. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Vera said, but her voice was changing, becoming something more melodious, more commanding. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“No,” I said, backing away from both of them. “You’re not. That blood… it’s not human. It’s not even ordinary vampire blood.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Celene snapped, but I could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “She’s a human bride. Nothing more.”

“Then why,” I asked, my voice gaining strength, “does her blood taste like royalty?”

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. Vera’s hand went to her throat, as if she could feel something changing there.

“Royalty?” she whispered.

“The old blood,” I said, pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t known existed beginning to fall into place. “The original vampire bloodlines. The ones that were supposed to be extinct.”

“That’s impossible,” Celene repeated, but she had taken several steps back. “The royal lines died out centuries ago. Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone believed that,” I corrected. “But what if they didn’t? What if they just… hid?”

Celene was staring at Vera now. Not with doubt anymore. With hunger.

She stepped closer. “Move,” she said to me. “Let me see her.”

“No.”

“I need to see,” she snapped, voice rising. “I need to know.”

Before I could stop her, she shoved me aside and lunged for Vera.

“Celene!” I grabbed for her arm, but she tore free.

“I want her blood—just a taste, just enough—” Her hands were shaking as she reached forward, like her body had taken over and her mind couldn’t catch up.

The second she touched Vera’s skin, she flinched back violently like she’d been hit. She staggered a few steps and dropped to one knee, breathing hard, eyes wide.

Then she laughed—short, high-pitched, and wrong. “No. No, that’s not… that’s not possible.”

Her hands were trembling now. She looked up at me, then back at Vera. Her face was pale. Not the practiced elegance of court, but real fear.

“She’s not human,” she whispered. “She’s not anything we understand.”

Vera’s eyes were fully gold now, and when she spoke, her voice carried the weight of centuries. “I think,” she said slowly, “that there are many things about my heritage that I was never told.”

“Who are you?” I demanded, moving closer to her again. “What are you?”

“I’m the same woman you chose three years ago,” she replied, but now there was something else in her voice, something that made my vampire instincts bow in recognition. “The same woman you just cast aside for political convenience.”

“Vera, if you’re what I think you are—”

“Then what?” she interrupted, her newfound power crackling around her like electricity. “Will you suddenly want me back? Will the great Lord Lucien decide that maybe his first bride wasn’t such a poor choice after all?”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, and I realized that Vera wasn’t just changing, she was awakening. Whatever bloodline she carried, whatever power had been dormant in her for years, it was coming to the surface.

Before I could answer, she turned and walked toward the door. But when she reached it, she paused and looked back at us.

“The ceremony is tomorrow night,” she said, her voice carrying a new, terrible certainty. “I’ll be there.”

“Vera—”

“But not as the woman you thought you knew,” she continued, ignoring my interruption. “As the woman I was always meant to be.”

The door closed behind her with a sound like a death knell, leaving Celene and me alone in the silence.

Suddenly, I realized that everything I thought I knew about Vera, about our marriage, about my choice to take a second mate, was about to be turned upside down.