Morning came draped in silence — heavy, suffocating silence. Even the wind outside seemed to hesitate, unsure whether to breathe near the Vireya estate.
I stood before the mirror in my chambers, watching a stranger stare back at me. Pale skin. Unreadable eyes. A thousand invisible chains. The gown Mara laced me into shimmered faintly under the light — white threaded with crimson, the traditional colors of surrender.
I'd never understood why we wore white for bindings. Maybe to pretend purity existed in politics. Maybe to make the blood stand out more clearly when it came.
"You're trembling, my lady," Mara said quietly from behind me. Her hands were gentle, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her nerves. "We can stop for a moment if you—"
"No," I said too quickly. "If we stop, I might not move again."
She hesitated. "You don't have to go through with this."
I met her eyes in the mirror. "It's already done. My father signed the Accord. The council sealed it. The only thing left is the performance."
Mara's throat bobbed. "You sound like you're going to war."
"I am."
When she left, the quiet pressed in again. My heart hammered in defiance of the calm mask I wore. I wasn't supposed to be nervous — I was the last pure-blood hunter, born to be composed, unshaken. But there was something about walking willingly into the lion's den that stripped away pretense.
The great bell tolled once, low and deep. Time.
I turned from the mirror and walked out.
---
The Binding Hall of Dravara Castle was breathtaking, if you ignored the fact that every person inside could tear you apart before your heart stopped beating.
Gold sconces lined the walls, their flames dancing in some unnatural rhythm. The nobles stood in clusters, dressed in velvet shadows, their eyes glinting with hunger disguised as civility.
And then there was him.
Prince Kaelen Dravara sat on the throne's edge, one leg drawn casually over the other, his expression carved from ice. His silver hair caught the light like the edge of a blade. He didn't look at me when I entered, not immediately — but when he did, it was like the air forgot how to move.
The memory of our first meeting flashed like lightning — his cool voice, his unreadable gaze, the faint hint of disgust he hadn't bothered to hide. He hadn't wanted this union any more than I had. That was our one point of agreement.
I walked down the aisle, the hem of my gown whispering across the marble. People bowed as I passed, not out of respect, but curiosity. The Vireya princess. The hunter girl who'd been given to a vampire.
Kaelen rose when I stopped before him. The silence that followed was alive, pulsing.
"Lady Selene," he said finally, his voice deep enough to tremble through bone. "You look…" His gaze flicked to the mark drawn in red across my collarbone — a sigil waiting to be sealed. "Prepared."
"Do I have a choice?" I murmured.
One corner of his mouth twitched — not amusement, but recognition. "No more than I do."
We turned toward the dais where the Councilor waited with the ceremonial blade — silver forged in holy fire, its edge faintly glowing. A murmur rippled through the crowd.
The ritual was simple: the blade would cut both our palms; blood would mix; the mark would ignite; and the bond would be sealed. A bridge between our worlds — or a chain around my throat.
Kaelen stepped closer. His scent — cold rain and iron — brushed against my senses. His eyes, up close, were darker than I remembered. Not just black, but something endless beneath it.
"Let's end this quickly," he said under his breath.
My heart stumbled. "You think I want to prolong it?"
"Then don't flinch."
"I won't."
The blade bit into my palm. I didn't make a sound. He didn't either when his turn came. The Councilor joined our hands. Warmth met cold — human and immortal.
And for a second, nothing happened.
Then everything did.
A rush of light erupted between our palms, blinding, searing. Pain tore through my arm and into my chest, a surge like fire clawing through every nerve. I gasped, but no sound left me. The mark on my collarbone ignited, burning crimson, then silver, then… black.
The hall erupted in gasps. The Councilor stumbled backward.
Kaelen's eyes widened — for the first time, his composure cracked. "Stop—" he hissed, but the mark wasn't listening. It spread like wildfire, threads of light crawling up my throat.
I jerked my hand free, breath shallow. "What's happening?"
He caught my wrist before I could fall. His grip was iron, his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't be feeling this much pain—"
"Then fix it!" I spat, half-panicked.
The mark flared again — and suddenly his hand went rigid. His pupils dilated, fangs flashing before he could stop them. A growl rumbled low in his chest, the sound not meant for human ears.
Every vampire in the room went still.
And then — silence. The light died. My knees buckled. He caught me before I hit the ground, his breath hot against my ear.
"Don't ever look at me like you're afraid again," he murmured. "If you do, this bond will kill you faster than it binds us."
The world tilted, black creeping in at the edges of my vision.
The last thing I saw was his face — half fury, half something dangerously close to fear.
And then, nothing.