The car was too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed in on your ears, made your heartbeat feel like thunder in your chest.
I sat stiffly in the corner of the back seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap, knuckles white. I stared out the window at the blur of buildings and neon lights as the limousine sliced through the city like a shadow.
It didn't feel real. None of it.
My whole life was somewhere behind me now, locked in a school hallway, tucked in Alice's hug, frozen in the look on my parents' faces when I told them.
They had reacted exactly how I feared.
My mother burst into tears the second the words left my mouth. She didn't scream, not like last time. This time it was worse. She crumpled to the floor like someone had knocked the wind from her body. The sound of her sobs, raw and broken, echoed through the walls.
Dad had gone still. His face was stone, like he was forcing himself to hold everything in. But I saw it. The fear. The helplessness. The quiet rage. He clenched his fists so tightly I thought his bones would crack.
"I won't let them take you," he'd said, voice shaking. "Over my dead body."
That's when I broke.
I dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his hand. "You can't fight them, Dad. They're royals. You'll die. They'll kill all of us."
"We're not just handing you over like some sacrificial lamb!" he snapped. "You're my daughter!"
"I don't have a choice!" I screamed back. "They've already decided!"
My mother had cried harder.
In the end, they had no power. No voice. No way to stop it. The second Lysander stepped into the doorway, radiating that quiet, ancient power that said I could kill you all and not break a sweat, everything inside our little house stopped.
He didn't even come in. He just leaned on the doorframe.
"You don't need to pack anything," he said simply. "I give you my word that your daughter would be taken care of."
And that was that.
I had hugged them both, choking on tears, and slipped out the back door before I could lose my nerve.
Now I sat here, watching the city I'd grown up in fade behind us.
I rubbed at my face with my sleeve, trying to smother the tears before they could fall again.
They couldn't see me like this. I couldn't give them the satisfaction.
Lysander sat across from me, one leg casually crossed over the other, watching me with a kind of lazy curiosity.
He didn't say a word.
And honestly, that was worse than if he had. His silence felt deliberate. Like he was waiting to see what I'd do.
So I didn't do anything. I just kept my eyes on the window, my jaw tight, and my heart slamming against my ribs.
Eventually, the streets began to change.
The cityscape gave way to long, winding roads wrapped in trees. The lights faded, and the air seemed to grow colder. More still. Like we were entering another world entirely.
And then I saw it.
The gates rose up from the ground like something carved from obsidian, tall and ornate, laced with runes that shimmered faintly in the dark. The limousine slowed, and the gates swung open without a sound.
Beyond them stood the home of House Noctis.
It wasn't a house. It was a damn palace.
Stone towers kissed the night sky, their spires sharp and silver-tipped. Ivy draped over dark brick walls like veins, and arched windows glowed with warm amber light.
Balconies curled like claws around the upper levels, and lanterns hovered in midair, illuminating the long, crescent driveway.
It was beautiful.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
We pulled to a stop.
I stared for a moment, then forced myself to sit straighter. I wiped the corners of my eyes and adjusted my blazer, trying to make myself look normal.
The door opened, and cold air poured in like mist.
"Come on," Lysander said.
I stepped out, my legs wobbling slightly as my feet hit the cobblestone.
The air smelled different here. Clean. Still.
"Try not to wander," he added. "The wards are sensitive to... foreign energy."
Foreign energy. Right. That was me now.
Before I could respond, the main doors burst open.
A blur of blonde curls and excitement shot down the marble steps toward us.
She looked about my age, maybe a little older. Waves of golden hair bounced around her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled like champagne.
She wore a long velvet coat the color of wine, and when she stopped in front of us, she did it with a flourish like she was used to making entrances.
"Is this the girl, brother—ohhh," she cut herself off mid-sentence, inhaling deeply. "She does smell unique."
I stepped back, my spine stiffening.
Her eyes flashed crimson for a half-second.
"Careful, Eirene," Lysander said mildly. "Don't scare the human."
Eirene. Of course that was her name.
She smiled, almost sheepishly. "Forgive me." Then turned those strange, twinkling eyes to me. "Hello there. What's your name?"
I hesitated. "Zara."
There was no judgment in her eyes. But there was pressure. Her voice was light, but she carried herself like a queen.
"Nice to meet you, Zara." She beamed. "I look forward to having you with us."
I blinked.
That was...unexpected.
I hadn't known vampires could be playful.
She giggled, clearly reading my expression. "Oh yes. We can be very playful."
My mouth parted slightly. "Wait—did you just—?"
"Yup. I can read minds. Kinda. Only surface stuff though," she said with a shrug. "So if you're going to think anything lewd about my brother, I'd recommend you do it quietly and away from me."
My face went crimson.
Lysander laughed. "Let's get you inside before Eirene completely terrorizes you."
Before I could respond, Eirene looped her cold, pale arm through mine. I flinched a little at the sudden contact, but she didn't seem to notice, or maybe she didn't care.
"You'll like it here," she said cheerfully. "Eventually."
I let her guide me up the steps.
The inside of House Noctis was... breathtaking.
Vaulted ceilings with stars carved into the stone. Velvet drapes the color of dried blood. Paintings of old battles, of wolves and shadows and thrones made of bone. A staircase spiraled upward like something out of a gothic fairytale.
It was cold. But beautiful. Almost painfully so.
And I almost forgot I didn't belong here.
Until I heard the footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
I turned, and my heart stopped.
Tiberius.
The royal from last night.
He stood at the far end of the hall, clad in dark fabric that shimmered like oil. His gaze locked onto mine, unreadable and deep. Still. Sharp.
And he was walking straight toward me.