VERA’S POV

I sat on the edge of my silk-draped bed, still wearing my sapphire gown from the Crimson Gala, the weight of humiliation crushing down upon me. Outside my window, the last of the estate’s torches had dimmed to flickering shadows, much like whatever remained of my marriage.

My fingers trembled as I reached to unclasp the Shadowmere pendant from around my throat. What was the point of wearing it now? The silver raven felt cold against my palm, as cold as Lucien’s eyes had been when he drank from Celene’s wrist in front of me.

A second mate. The words echoed in my mind, each repetition another blade between my ribs.

I hadn’t even managed to remove my ceremonial jewelry when the door to my chambers burst open without warning. Lady Vela swept in like a winter storm, Neressa trailing behind her with a smirk that made my skin crawl.

“Still wallowing in self-pity? How predictable,” Lady Vela’s voice dripped with contempt as her gaze raked over me. “The guests are asking questions about the new arrangement, and here you are, hiding away like a child.”

I straightened my spine, refusing to cower. “I was just retiring for the evening, Lady Vela. I assumed the council would handle—”

“You assumed?” Neressa cut in, circling to the other side of my bed, effectively trapping me between them. “Perhaps that’s been your problem all along. Too many assumptions, too little substance.”

“What do you want?” I asked, proud that my voice didn’t waver.

Lady Vela’s lips curved into something too sharp to be called a smile. “Want? I want what’s best for my son. For our house. Something you’ve clearly failed to provide.”

“I have served this house loyally for three years,” I said, rising to my feet. “I have fulfilled every duty asked of me.”

“Every duty? Truly?” Neressa laughed, the sound like shattering crystal. “Tell me, where are the heirs that should be gracing these halls by now? Where is the next generation of Shadowmere leadership?”

The familiar accusation pierced deeper than usual tonight. I turned away, unwilling to let them see the pain in my eyes.

“Nothing to say?” Lady Vela pressed, moving closer. “No defense for your barren womb? For the weakness you’ve introduced into our bloodline?”

“My fertility is not—”

“Your fertility is everything!” Lady Vela snapped, her composure cracking. “You were given the honor of being Lucien’s chosen bride, an honor you never deserved, and you’ve failed in the most fundamental way possible.”

Neressa moved to my vanity, picking up one of my silver hairpins and examining it with false interest. “Celene comes from fertile stock. Her bloodline has produced heirs for six generations without fail. Her blood sings with life, unlike some.”

“My worth isn’t measured solely by my ability to bear children,” I said quietly, though a part of me had begun to believe their poisonous words.

Lady Vela laughed, the sound devoid of any humor. “Oh, but it is. And now that Lucien has finally seen sense and chosen a proper mate, what exactly is your purpose here?”

“I am still his first bride,” I insisted, though the words felt hollow even to my own ears.

“In name only,” Neressa replied, dropping the hairpin carelessly. “And names can be stripped away as easily as they’re given.”

The door opened again, and I felt my heart sink further as Celene herself glided in, her red hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid fire. She wore a silk nightgown that left little to the imagination, and her skin seemed to glow with an inner light.

“Ladies,” she purred, inclining her head with mock respect. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

“Not at all, dear,” Lady Vela replied warmly. “We were just discussing arrangements for the ceremony.”

“How thoughtful,” Celene said, her green eyes fixing on me with predatory intensity. “Though I must say, Vera, you look rather… pale. Are you feeling quite well?”

Before I could respond, she moved closer, her movements fluid and graceful. “Perhaps you need some… nourishment. Being human, you must find our ways so exhausting.”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, but Celene was already reaching for something hidden in her robe.

“Nonsense,” she said, producing a small crystal vial filled with what looked like dark wine. “This is a special blend. Ancient recipe. It should help with your… condition.”

“What condition?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.

“Your obvious weakness,” Neressa said bluntly. “The way you fainted during the last blood moon ceremony. The way you can barely keep up with vampire society. It’s embarrassing.”

“Drink it,” Lady Vela commanded, her voice brooking no argument. “Lady Celene has been kind enough to prepare it specially for you.”

I looked at the vial in Celene’s pale hand, every instinct screaming danger. “I don’t think—”

“You don’t think?” Celene’s smile was razor-sharp. “That’s been quite apparent from the beginning. But surely you can manage this simple task.”

She moved even closer, her breath cool against my cheek. “Unless you’re afraid? Surely the future second mate of House Shadowmere wouldn’t be intimidated by a simple tonic.”

“I’m not afraid,” I said, though my voice shook slightly.

“Then prove it,” Lady Vela said. “Drink.”

I took the vial with trembling fingers, the liquid inside swirling like liquid shadow. It smelled of copper and something else, something that made my head spin.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Just a little something to help you understand your place,” Celene whispered, her hand covering mine, forcing the vial toward my lips. “After all, tomorrow you’ll watch your husband claim me as his true mate. You should be prepared.”

Before I could protest, she had tipped the vial, and the liquid flowed into my mouth. It tasted of iron and darkness, burning down my throat like liquid fire.

“Excellent,” Lady Vela said with satisfaction. “Now you’ll truly understand what it means to serve this house.”

The world began to tilt around me, and I felt a strange weakness seeping into my limbs. “What did you give me?”

“Just a little something to make you more… compliant,” Celene said, her voice seeming to come from far away. “A human’s blood can be so unpredictable. This will help stabilize you.”

I staggered, my vision blurring. “You poisoned me.”

“Poison is such an ugly word,” Neressa said, her voice filled with amusement. “Think of it as… enhancement. Now you’ll be the perfect, obedient first bride while I take my rightful place.”

“When Lucien finds out—”

“Lucien will find out nothing,” Lady Vela said firmly. “And even if he did, what makes you think he’d care? He’s already chosen his true mate.”

The door burst open with enough force to slam against the wall, making all of us jump. Lucien stood in the doorway, his powerful frame filling the space, his dark eyes blazing with barely contained rage.

“What is going on here?” His voice carried the authority of centuries, making even Lady Vela step back.

“Nothing, darling,” his mother said smoothly. “We were just helping Vera prepare for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

Lucien’s gaze swept over the scene, me swaying on my feet, the empty vial in my hand, the guilty expressions on their faces. His nostrils flared, and I knew he could smell whatever they had given me.

“Everyone out,” he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. “Now.”

“But Lucien—” Celene began, moving toward him with that predatory grace.

“I said out!” The windows rattled with the force of his voice, and I felt the ancient power that made him a vampire lord pressing against the room like a physical weight.

Lady Vela and Neressa fled immediately, but Celene lingered, her hand trailing along the doorframe as she looked back at me with malicious satisfaction.

“Sweet dreams, Vera,” she purred.

When the door finally closed behind them, I collapsed onto the bed, my legs no longer able to support me. The room spun around me, and I could feel whatever they had given me working its way through my system.

“What did they give you?” Lucien demanded, moving to my side with vampire speed.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Some kind of tonic. They said it would help with my condition.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought I saw genuine concern in his eyes. “Vera, look at me.”

I tried to focus on his face, but everything seemed to blur together. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”

“You didn’t—” He stopped himself, his expression hardening. “This changes nothing. The ceremony tomorrow will proceed as planned.”

“Of course it will,” I said, bitter laughter escaping me. “Your precious Celene has made sure of that.”

“Celene is not—” Again, he stopped himself. “Get some rest. Whatever they gave you will wear off by morning.”

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his wrist with what little strength I had left. “Lucien, please. Talk to me. Help me understand what I did wrong.”

For a moment, his mask slipped, and I saw something raw and pained in his expression. “You did nothing wrong,” he said quietly. “That’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

He gently removed my hand from his wrist, his touch surprisingly tender. “Rest, Vera. Tomorrow will be difficult enough without you torturing yourself tonight.”

“Will you stay?” The words escaped before I could stop them. “Just until the effects wear off?”

He hesitated, and I thought he might refuse. But then he moved to the chair by the window, settling into it with rigid posture.

“I’ll stay,” he said simply.

As I drifted into an uneasy sleep, I heard him murmur something under his breath, words that sounded almost like an apology. But when I woke in the morning, he was gone, and I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing.

In the dream, I was standing in a cold, dim room. Celene was there, mixing something into a vial. I recognized the smell of the tonic she’d given me days ago.

“You thought it was to keep you weak,” she said, still facing away. “It wasn’t.”

The room didn’t feel real, but everything she said stuck. The tonic wasn’t a sedative or a suppressant. It was a trigger. Something had been dormant in my blood, and she’d known it.

“It’s starting now,” she said.

I looked at myself in a mirror on the far wall. My eyes were the first thing I noticed. The brown was still there, but something new had surfaced underneath—gold, faint at first, then pulsing steadily like a second heartbeat.

The mirror fractured. I woke up.

My room was empty. Lucien hadn’t returned. But the gold in my eyes hadn’t faded.

Something was happening to me. And I wasn’t imagining it.