After Taking Vows With My Sister, He Begged Me To Return

I stood in the shadows of the crowd who were supposed to gather for my wedding with Alaric, my blood bound.

Alaric, the Pureblood heir I had loved for a century, stood tall and lethal in his black coat. But the woman standing across from him, draped in a gown of shimmering silver, was not me. It was Celeste, a half-blood vampire siren, by my Dad.

The High Priest’s voice echoed through the vaulted stone. "By the blood of the ancients, the union is sealed."

Then came the "Rite of Possession"—the archaic tradition of the High Houses.

In the chant for ‘Kiss on lips’, Alaric knelt. The crowd went silent. He moved with a deliberate, slow grace that felt like a blade to my heart.

Alaric knelt before her, his movements slow and deliberate. As the crowd held its breath, he pressed a lingering, possessive kiss to the hollow of her throat—the spot where a blood-bond is most sacred.

Celeste let out a soft, airy gasp, her fingers curling into the silk of his tunic. The crowd erupted in cheers; to them, it was a beautiful display of devotion, the final seal of their union. He remained there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, his eyes fixed on her with a heat that made my skin crawl.

“She is claimed,” Alaric announced, his voice ringing through the vaulted stone. The applause that followed was deafening, but it was the sight of my father nodding in silent approval from the front row that truly shattered me.

"A perfect union," my father whispered, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Exactly as planned.”

My hand trembled as I pulled my phone from my shredded bodice. The screen was cracked, reflecting my own pale, terrified face. I dialed Alaric’s number. One ring. Two. Then, the clinical click of a declined call.

I typed with shaking thumbs. [Alaric, please. I’m trapped near the Blackwood Bridge. The wolves—they won't stop. I’m bleeding. Help me.]

I watched him. In the distance above the altar, Alaric’s hand moved to his pocket. He felt the vibration. He pulled the phone out, his ice-blue eyes scanning the screen for a fraction of a second. With a flick of his thumb, he silenced it and slid it back into his pocket, his expression as unbothered as a still lake.

"Elara will be so mad after she finds out you and Dad orchestrated all this so that I could replace her in the wedding."

He then leaned closer to Celeste. Though the voice was low, but loud enough for a pure-blooded vampire like me to hear."Don't worry about her anymore, my love. I’ve ensured she stays exactly where she belongs, in the dirt, far behind us. Her tears are the only wedding gift I ever wanted to give you."

My father, Silas, walked forward. He gently caressed her hair and said, “Since you arrived late in the family, you always get Elara’s second-hand things. I can at least do this much for you, sweetheart, that you get the man you desire.”

Secondhand? My father kinda forgot, ever since Celeste came to the family, everything belonged to her, even those he had given me before.

A few drops of tears and a trembling finger against me was enough to make him believe I had been bullying her, resulting in her being favored and getting whatever she wanted.

Every word from my father felt like a silver stake driven through my chest. I wasn't just a bride replaced; I was a sacrificial lamb offered up to appease a half-blood’s envy.

I looked at my hands—stained with the black blood of the wolves Alaric had sent to slaughter me. The "Blood Bond" we shared, once a sacred hum in my veins, now felt like a parasite, cold and mocking.

A low, guttural laugh escaped my throat, silent to the cheering crowd but vibrating through the bond. Alaric’s head snapped toward the shadows, his icy eyes widening as he finally felt the shift.

I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply reached closer to them.

“Elara… Y-You.” He stammered, “Why are you like this?”

"Drop the act, Alaric. Enjoy your legal wife," I whispered. "And Father... enjoy the silence of the daughter you just murdered.”