LUCIEN’S POV

The grand obsidian corridor leading to the Vampire Court stretched ahead like a path to judgment. Guards stood sentinel on either side, unmoving, unblinking, cloaked in the silver-and-crimson colors of the royal house. The palace of Sanguinara was a monolith carved into a mountain’s heart, regal and ancient. Everything about it screamed power. Legacy. Judgment.

My vampire nature stirred restlessly, like a caged predator sensing danger.

“Relax,” Celene said, her smile sharp as a blade. “You look like you’re about to be executed.”

I glanced at her. She was radiant in crimson silk and a polished gold bodice that hugged her torso like armor. Her flame-red hair was coiled high, wrapped in jeweled pins from the Blackthorne treasury. She had definitely dressed to impress.

“I’m not the one under inspection,” I muttered.

She laughed softly, the sound like breaking crystal. “No, you’re the one offering tribute.”

A guard pounded the butt of his spear against the floor, then pushed the doors open with a groaning thunder that swept through the halls like prophecy.

We stepped into a hall built to humble gods.

Vaulted ceilings stretched into shadows above. An aisle of blood-red carpet unfurled ahead of us, flanked by nobles and lords from nearly every major vampire house. They lined the chamber in tight, silent rows, eyes glittering with interest and judgment.

At the far end of the room sat the throne. Carved of dark stone, crowned with silver ravens, and draped in shadow.

King Aldric, cold and regal, sat upon it like it was part of him.

He was watching us without a smile, didn’t even blink or nod, and it increased my nervousness.

“Your Majesty,” I said clearly, voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest, “I, Lord Lucien Shadowmere, present Lady Celene of House Blackthorne for recognition as my mate and alliance.”

Celene dropped into a graceful curtsy beside me, chin high, hands perfectly posed.

I bowed deeply. The marble was cold against my knee.

Still, no response.

The silence stretched.

Seconds. Maybe longer. It felt like being buried alive.

Celene’s fingers twitched against her skirts. “Why is he staring like that?” she whispered.

My vampire instincts answered before I could: Because something’s coming. Something’s wrong.

“Lord Shadowmere,” the King’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “You come before us seeking recognition for a union.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And yet,” he continued, his gray eyes boring into mine, “we understand there was already a mate bond in place. A human bride, was she not?”

Heat crawled up my neck. “The bond was… severed, Your Majesty. By mutual agreement.”

“Mutual?” The King’s eyebrow arched. “How fascinating. And this human bride, what became of her?”

“She left my estate of her own accord,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady. “She was… unsuitable for the future of House Shadowmere.”

“Unsuitable,” the King repeated, and something in his tone made ice form in my veins. “In what way?”

Celene stepped forward slightly. “If I may, Your Majesty, the girl was barren. Unable to provide heirs. Lord Lucien required a mate who could strengthen his bloodline.”

“Ah,” the King said, leaning forward. “And you believe yourself more… suitable?”

“I do, Your Majesty,” Celene replied confidently. “My blood is pure vampire stock, ancient and powerful. I can offer Lord Lucien what she could not.”

“Demonstrate,” the King commanded.

“Your Majesty?” I asked, confused.

“Your mate’s blood,” he clarified. “If it is truly as powerful as you claim, let the court witness it.”

Celene’s eyes lit up with triumph. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

She produced a small silver blade from her bodice, drawing it across her wrist without hesitation. The scent of her blood filled the chamber, rich, intoxicating, undeniably powerful.

“Lord Shadowmere,” the King commanded. “Drink.”

I moved to Celene’s side, taking her wrist in my hands. When my fangs pierced her skin, the taste that flooded my mouth was everything I remembered, fire and strength, ancient magic that sang through my veins.

A murmur of approval rippled through the court. Several vampires leaned forward, clearly affected by the display.

“Impressive,” the King acknowledged. “And what of your own blood, Lord Shadowmere? Does it complement hers?”

Before I could respond, Celene had taken the blade and drawn it across my wrist. “Allow me to demonstrate, Your Majesty.”

She brought my wrist to her lips, her eyes closing in apparent ecstasy as she drank. The connection between us flared, and I felt the power flowing between our bloodlines.

“Exquisite,” she moaned, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Such strength, such power. We are perfectly matched.”

“Indeed,” the King said, but his tone remained neutral. “And yet…”

Suddenly, the chamber doors exploded open behind us.

Gasps tore through the crowd like a ripple of lightning. Firm and unhurried footsteps echoed.

I turned, heartbeat slamming in my ears, and my entire world tilted.

Vera.

Not the broken woman who had left with tears in her eyes and rejection staining her voice. No.

This Vera walked like a storm on two legs.

Flanked by two royal guards in gleaming armor, and behind them, the High Priestess of the Crown herself, face veiled in silk and moonlight. Vera’s head was high, unbent. Her hair was braided back, glinting with threads of gold.

She wore a tailored gown of black velvet, collared high and sharp, embroidered with the crest of the royal house. Her gloves bore the royal mark, ravens crowned in silver.

She didn’t look at me as she walked past, every cell in my body screaming her name.

“What, what is this?” Celene hissed, her voice cracking around the edges.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Vera passed us like we weren’t even there. Like she hadn’t once shared my bed. Like I hadn’t once held her heart in my hand and crushed it.

She stopped at the base of the throne and bowed low, graceful as moonlight.

“Your Majesty,” she said, voice like cut glass, “your daughter returns, blood-bonded and recognized.”

King Aldric rose.

A tide of shadow and thunder lifting from the throne. His voice carried like prophecy through the hushed court.

“Let all present hear: this is Princess Vera Sanguinara. My heir.”

The room erupted.

Gasps. Shouts. Several vampires dropped to one knee on instinct. Others just stared in shock.

I couldn’t move. My mouth had gone dry. My vampire nature slammed against my ribs, howling in anguish and something worse, longing. Recognition. Home.

Celene whipped her head toward me. “V-Vera? That’s Vera?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t even breathe.

Vera turned then, finally, and looked at us with cold, regal eyes.

“You wanted a mate with standing, Lucien,” she said evenly. “You just didn’t realize you already had one.”

Celene recoiled like she’d been slapped. “She—she’s lying. This is a trick.”

Vera didn’t blink. “Does this look like a trick?”

The High Priestess stepped forward, lifting her hand. “The blood has spoken. Her heritage is sealed by ancient law. Her claim, unquestionable.”

“But she’s human,” Celene protested, her voice rising with desperation. “I tasted her blood. It was weak, mortal—”

“Was it?” Vera asked, her voice carrying a new authority that made every vampire in the room shiver. “Or were you tasting what I allowed you to taste?”

King Aldric nodded once. “The Crimson Court recognizes Princess Vera as my heir. And none shall contest it.”