VERA’S POV
“Straighten your shoulders, darling,” Lady Vela whispered as she glided past me, her silver hair perfectly coiffed, her smile razor-sharp. “Your posture reflects on the entire house.”
I lifted my chin, feeling the weight of the Shadowmere pendant against my throat. The intricate silver raven should have been a symbol of belonging, of power. Instead, it felt like a collar.
Crimson light from the crystal chandeliers bathed the Shadowmere estate, casting everything in shades of blood and shadow. The annual Crimson Gala should have been a night of celebration, but as I stood in the grand ballroom wearing my sapphire gown, a color that marked me as Lord Lucien’s chosen bride, I felt more like a decoration than a participant.
“Of course, Lady Vela,” I murmured, but she had already moved on, leaving behind the scent of expensive perfume and barely concealed disdain.
Across the ballroom, Lucien stood among the vampire lords, his dark hair gleaming under the lights, his presence commanding even in a room full of immortals. He looked magnificent in his black formal wear, every inch the vampire lord who had chosen me three years ago. Yet he hadn’t looked at me once tonight.
“Wine, Lady Vera?”
I turned to find Neressa, Lucien’s sister, offering me a crystal goblet filled with what looked like wine but smelled of copper and roses. Blood wine, the preferred drink of our kind, though as a human, I rarely partook.
“Thank you,” I said, accepting it with steady hands.
Neressa’s smile was all fangs. “Quite the gathering tonight. The Blackthorne delegation seems particularly… comfortable.”
I followed her gaze to where several vampires bearing the distinctive red and black colors of the neighboring house mingled with our own. Among them, a woman with flame-red hair and porcelain skin caught my attention. She was breathtaking, with the kind of beauty that made even vampires pause.
“Lady Celene, isn’t it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Indeed. She’s quite remarkable, wouldn’t you say?” Neressa’s voice carried an edge I couldn’t quite place. “I hear she’s been having fascinating conversations with the council about bloodlines and… compatibility.”
My grip tightened on the goblet. The whispers had been growing louder, whispers that I was barren, that I had failed in my most fundamental duty as Lucien’s bride.
“I wouldn’t know,” I replied evenly. “I wasn’t invited to those conversations.”
“Weren’t you?” Neressa’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “How strange. I was certain Lucien would have mentioned it to his chosen bride.”
Before I could respond, a young vampire approached nervously. “Lady Neressa, your mother requires your presence.”
Neressa sighed dramatically. “Enjoy the evening, dear.” She emphasized ‘dear’ with subtle mockery before departing.
I took a deeper breath than necessary and scanned the crowd again. Near the grand staircase, I spotted Thorne, one of the few vampires who still treated me with genuine respect despite my human status.
“Lady Vera,” he said quietly as he approached. “Lord Lucien requests your presence in the private dining chamber.”
My heart stuttered. “Thank you, Thorne.”
The private dining chamber was smaller than the ballroom but no less opulent, with its mahogany table and portraits of Shadowmere ancestors. Lucien stood by the tall windows, his silhouette dark against the moonlight streaming through the glass.
“You wanted to see me?” I asked, proud that my voice remained steady.
He turned, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his dark eyes. But it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.
“Yes,” he said simply. “We need to discuss the future of this house.”
Before I could respond, the door opened, and Lady Celene entered, her red hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid fire. She wore a gown of deep burgundy that complemented her vampiric beauty perfectly.
“Lady Celene,” Lucien said, his voice noticeably warmer. “Thank you for joining us.”
“Lord Lucien,” she replied, inclining her head gracefully before turning to me. “Lady Vera. What an honor to finally meet you properly.”
“Lady Celene,” I acknowledged, noting how Lucien’s posture had changed in her presence, more attentive, more alive.
Celene moved closer to Lucien, her movements fluid and predatory. “I trust you’ve given thought to our earlier conversation?”
“I have,” Lucien replied, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made my chest tighten.
“What conversation?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
Celene’s smile was sharp as a blade. “About the future of vampire bloodlines, of course. The importance of… compatible matches.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I looked between them, seeing the way Lucien’s gaze lingered on her, the way she moved just slightly closer to him.
“Perhaps,” Celene continued, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “we could discuss this more thoroughly. I find that certain conversations require more… personal touch.”
She extended her wrist toward Lucien, and I watched in horror as she pulled back the delicate lace of her sleeve, revealing skin as white as marble. The gesture was unmistakably intimate, offering one’s blood was the most personal act between vampires and their chosen humans.
“Celene,” Lucien said, his voice rough with hunger.
“Please,” she whispered. “I want you to taste what I can offer.”
My world tilted as Lucien stepped closer to her, his fangs extending. This was wrong. Blood sharing was sacred, intimate, meant to be private between mates.
“Lucien,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He paused, his fangs already pressed against Celene’s wrist, and looked at me over her arm. “This is necessary, Vera. For the house.”
“Necessary?” I repeated, my voice cracking.
“You know what this is about,” he said, his eyes growing cold. “Three years, Vera. Three years, and you’ve given me nothing.”
Celene’s soft moan as his fangs pierced her skin made my stomach clench. I watched, transfixed and horrified, as Lucien drank from her wrist, his eyes closing in what looked like ecstasy. The sound of her blood flowing into him filled the silence, intimate and obscene.
“She tastes like power,” Lucien murmured against her skin, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Like the future of our bloodline.”
Celene’s eyes met mine over Lucien’s bent head, and I saw triumph there, sharp and victorious.
“The council believes,” she said breathlessly, “that some bloodlines are simply more… more compatible than others.”
I felt like I was drowning. “What are you saying?”
Lucien finally lifted his head, Celene’s blood still staining his lips. “I’m saying that House Shadowmere needs an heir. And if you cannot provide one…”
“You’ll replace me,” I finished, the words tasting like ash.
“Not replace,” Celene interjected smoothly. “Supplement. In vampire society, multiple mates are not uncommon when the survival of a bloodline is at stake.”
The room spun around me. “You’re taking her as a second bride.”
“The council has already given their approval,” Lucien said, his voice matter-of-fact. “The ceremony will be tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” I staggered backward. “You’ve already decided everything without me?”
“What was there to decide?” Lucien’s voice grew harder. “You’ve had three years to fulfill your duty. Celene will give me what you cannot.”
Celene stepped closer to me, her wrist already healing from Lucien’s bite. “I hope you’ll understand, Vera. This isn’t personal. It’s about the future of vampire society.”
“Not personal?” I laughed, the sound bitter and broken. “You’re stealing my mate.”
“I’m saving your mate’s bloodline,” she corrected. “Something you were unable to do.”
Lucien turned toward me again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Vera,” he said, and something in his tone almost sounded gentle. “Let me taste you again. One more time. I have to be sure.”
He stepped toward me, slowly, as if coaxing a frightened animal. His gaze locked onto mine, the hunger still burning behind his eyes.
He stepped toward me slowly, carefully, like I was something fragile about to break. His eyes burned with hunger—not just for blood, but for certainty, for legacy. For something I no longer recognized.
“No,” I breathed, instinctively backing away. “No, Lucien. Don’t.”
His brow furrowed, as though I were being unreasonable. “Vera—”
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, panic rising like bile. “You just fed from her. You tasted her. And now you want to compare us like wine?”
His expression faltered. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” My voice broke, shame and fury knotting in my throat. “You think I could still bare my wrist to you after what I just saw? After you moaned for her blood?”
He looked stricken for half a second—but didn’t stop.
“I need to know,” he said. “One last time. Please.”
“No,” I whispered, heart pounding. “You don’t get to ask that of me. Not after this. Not when you’ve already chosen her.”
I could feel my breath coming faster, too shallow. My back hit the cold stone wall. There was nowhere left to go.
Lucien was just a step away.
And then—
The doors to the chamber burst open with ceremonial force, the sound like thunder against my ribs.
Lady Vela swept in, flanked by four council members robed in midnight velvet.
“Lord Lucien,” she said, her voice cool and formal. “The arrangements are complete. The second mating ceremony will proceed as planned.”
I looked around the room at their faces, Lucien’s cold determination, Celene’s satisfied smile, Lady Vela’s barely concealed pleasure, the council’s approval. They had all known. They had all been planning this behind my back.
“I see,” I said quietly, surprised by how calm my voice sounded. “And where exactly does this leave me?”
Lady Vela’s smile was poisonous. “You’ll remain as Lord Lucien’s first mate, of course. Though naturally, Lady Celene will take precedence in matters of… succession.”
“Of course,” I repeated numbly.
Lucien stepped forward, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like regret in his eyes. “Vera, you must understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” I cut him off. “You’ve made your choice.”
I turned to leave, but Celene’s voice stopped me.
“Vera?” When I looked back, her smile was predatory. “You should know, Lord Lucien and I have been… getting to know each other for months now. Tonight was merely the final test.”
The implication hit me like a physical blow. “Months?”
“The blood doesn’t lie,” she said softly. “And his reaction to mine has been enthusiastic.”
I felt something inside me crack, some final thread of hope snapping. “I see.”
“The ceremony begins at midnight tomorrow,” Lady Vela announced. “I trust you’ll present yourself appropriately, Lady Vera. After all, it would be unfortunate if you were to cause a scene.”
I looked at each of them one last time, the vampires who had held my fate in their hands and found me wanting, the woman who had stolen my mate, and the man who had promised me forever but meant only until someone better came along.
“I’ll be there,” I said quietly.
As I turned to leave, I caught Lucien’s reflection in the window glass. He was watching me with an expression I couldn’t read, his hand still stained with Celene’s blood.
But it was Celene’s soft laughter that followed me out of the room, along with her whispered words:
“Sweet dreams, dear. Tomorrow, everything changes.”
I walked through the corridors of Shadowmere, past the portraits of Lucien’s ancestors, feeling like a ghost haunting the halls of my own home. Tomorrow, I would watch the man I loved take another mate, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Or so I thought.
