The Vampire Palace had never felt colder—even beneath its eternal moonlight.
A fire crackled within the Hall of Tomes, casting flickering shadows across shelves that held secrets older than the kingdom itself. The air was heavy, scented with old parchment and unspoken truths. And sitting before the Four Lords, wrapped in dark crimson robes that shimmered with ancient runes, was Seraphina—the Oracle of Blood and Lore.
She was not a vampire. Not exactly. Nor was she human.
She was something else entirely.
Her skin glowed faintly like pale candle wax, and her eyes were violet—always unblinking, always watching. Her voice was soft, melodic… but it had the power to still storms.
"Four of the night… bound by blood and burden," she spoke with a small smile curving her lips, "you come to me now… when the bond has already begun to burn."
Lucien stepped forward first, arms crossed. "We didn't ask for her. We don't want this tie."
Seraphina's smile deepened. "And yet, here you are, smelling of her pain… and carrying the marks of her confusion."
Kaelen snarled. "We didn't mark her."
"No," Seraphina said calmly, her long fingers trailing over the golden book before her, "and that is your first mistake."
Varek's eyes narrowed, glinting gold under the flickering flame. "Explain."
She opened the book with reverence, revealing symbols written in blood—pure, royal, and ancient. "The girl… Mira… is a Golden Blood. A child born of guardian lineage and vampire essence. A mix that was never meant to exist. Her parents—yes, the rebels you executed—were the guardians sent to destroy this kingdom."
Darian's lips finally parted. "…But she isn't one of them?"
"No," Seraphina said, shaking her head slowly. "Her blood chose otherwise. Mira is not a guardian. She is a vessel. A rare mate… born to carry vampire bloodline forward—not end it."
Varek took a step back, silent.
Kaelen's jaw twitched. "That's impossible. A guardian's child should burn with their purpose."
"Unless," Seraphina said, her tone sharp now, "fate intervenes. Unless… the very kingdom they tried to destroy gave the child a new purpose. Your bloodlines recognized her the moment she was born. You think it's chance that her scent called to all of you?"
Lucien's voice darkened. "Then why does it feel like she's suffering from this bond?"
Seraphina turned a page in the book. Her smile returned—but it was no longer warm.
"Because you are hurting her."
Silence.
She tapped the page with one pale nail. "She has been tied to all four of you through the Blood Bind Ritual—a rare phenomenon that only occurs once in several thousand years. One woman. Four Lords. One bond."
Kaelen laughed bitterly. "What a joke."
Seraphina's eyes glowed. "Not a joke. A prophecy."
Lucien muttered, "Then what do we do? Break the bond?"
"You can't," Seraphina said coldly. "The bond is sealed by her blood. It cannot be severed, not even by death. But if any of you…" she paused, letting the silence sink, "…if any of you engage intimately with another—even once—the bond will strike back."
Lucien tensed. "Strike back how?"
"She will feel every moment… every sensation… in her veins," Seraphina said, looking straight at him. "Not as pleasure. But as pain. Blinding. Agonizing. As if her soul is being ripped open."
Darian's fists clenched. "That's why she collapsed when—"
Seraphina simply nodded.
"And it will worsen with time. Until you mark her."
Varek's voice rumbled low. "Mark her… how?"
Seraphina stood and approached them, her bare feet making no sound across the ancient stone floor. "With your bite. Your blood. Your claim. Each of you. She must be marked under the next Red Moon… or the bond will turn volatile. Unstable. It will consume her… and you."
"When is the next Red Moon?" Darian asked, voice grave.
Seraphina smiled, her eyes gleaming. "Three nights from now."
Kaelen cursed under his breath, storming to the window. "This is insane."
Lucien looked away. "She doesn't even trust us."
"She doesn't need to," Seraphina replied gently. "But she will come to. In time. Her blood is yours now. And your fate… is hers."
Varek stared into the fire, his voice barely a whisper. "And her parents… what were they planning?"
Seraphina's smile faltered for the first time. "They wanted to burn the kingdom from within. But she is the answer fate gave instead—to build it forward. Through her, vampirekind will evolve. Strengthen. She will undo what they tried to destroy. But only if the Lords accept her."
Lucien muttered, "What if we don't?"
"Then you'll watch the kingdom burn from your own hands… because without her, your power will rot," Seraphina said. "The bond gives you life now. And if you deny her—it will become your death."
She turned away, robes swaying behind her like crimson mist. "Mark her… or lose everything."
—--
Far from the palace, Mira stirred in her sleep back at the mansion. Her back arched, her skin burning. Pain laced through her chest—not physical, but emotional, raw, deep.
Something inside her whispered of betrayal, of truths unseen, of marks not yet placed.
And in her dream… she saw four glowing symbols hovering above her heart—each pulsing with a different color.
And a voice—not hers—echoing in the dark:
"You were born to belong… to command. Not to beg."
She gasped awake.
Sweat trickled down her temple.
And her body…
Her body was glowing gold.