Blood Illusion, the Heir That Never Was

My blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius, swapped our heir for his precious Lilith’s, then had me burned to ash. I woke up in the past, found a witch, and used my own blood to end the ritual.

I stepped out of the witch’s den, my fingers cold, clutching the amulet that would fake my “pregnancy.”

The void left by the terminated ritual was nothing. Not even a fraction of the pain I felt when Lucius drove a blessed silver dagger through my heart in my last life.

Hate had frozen my blood solid. I no longer felt useless emotions like grief.

The heir that should have been his was gone forever.

The sports car sped toward the Covenant’s manor.

In the distance, Lucius’s Rolls-Royce was parked at the main gate.

He stepped out, a woman cradled in his arms.

Lilith.

She was in a white lace dress, her arms wrapped around Lucius’s neck like vines, looking fragile and weak.

I pulled up and slammed my car door, making sure they heard.

They turned. A flicker of triumph flashed in Lilith’s eyes before she masked it with fake surprise.

"Rhiannon! You're back!"

Her voice was sickly sweet. Revulsion coiled like a viper in my gut.

I walked toward them, my hand placed protectively over my still-flat stomach.

The witch's amulet was already working, cloaking me in the intoxicating scent unique to a pregnant pureblood.

"Good evening, Lucius. Lilith," I said flatly.

Lilith snuggled deeper into Lucius's arms, her eyes fixed on me like a snake.

"Rhiannon, look!" she squealed, pointing to the back seat. "Lucius had a magic cradle custom-made for me! It's the only one in the world!"

I glanced at the cradle. It was carved with intricate spells, absurdly expensive.

"It has the most ancient protection wards," Lilith boasted. "It can keep the baby safe even from a werewolf's claws. Lucius said my child deserves the best."

The best.

The memory hit me like a rush of ice water.

Lilith had returned shortly after I announced my ritual was a success.

Heartbroken, her own blood bond shattered.

Lucius told me he was just taking pity on her. An old childhood friend he had to look after.

I believed him. I even shared my own precious blood supply, meant to nourish my heir, with her.

I had no idea it was a trap. They had been plotting against me from the start.

"Lucius is such a good Lord," Lilith cooed. "Rhiannon is so lucky to be his bonded mate."

A good Lord.

I almost laughed out loud.

In my last life, Lilith and I were brought to the Ritual Chamber at the same time.

I "birthed" a monster with claws and flashing gold eyes.

Everyone said I had betrayed the bloodline, that I had lain with a werewolf.

I remember screaming his name, my voice raw.

I begged Lucius—my mate—to just look at me. To see the truth in my eyes.

He refused.

His gaze slid past me, as if I were already a ghost.

He held up a memory crystal. Its cold light painted my “treachery” across the chamber walls for all to see.

“How could you?” he’d whispered, his voice dripping with a disgust that did more damage than any blade.

It didn’t just shatter my heart; it pulverized it into dust.

The crystal showed me meeting a werewolf in secret, plotting.

With the Blood Moon War raging, the Covenant sentenced me to death and threw me in a Sun-Scorched Dungeon.

They dosed me with faint holy light daily, suppressing my power until I couldn't even turn to mist.

I even started to wonder if I'd been cursed by a werewolf, tainting my bloodline without knowing.

Three years later, Lucius was crowned Prince.

He came to the dungeon, saying he was willing to forgive his "errant mate."

He brought me back to the manor, where I overheard Lilith talking to my son.

The half-breed monster had been hers.

And my own son was complaining about how weak I’d become, wishing I would just die already.

When I confronted them, I tried to run—to expose them to the Elder Council. But I was caught.

Lucius threw me back in the dungeon, and this time, he ended my life with his own hands.

The sharp pain of that memory pulled me back to the present. I stared at the "lovers" before me.

"Lucius," my voice was ice. "A Lord of the Covenant, playing chauffeur for your mistress instead of commanding your armies?"

Lucius’s brow furrowed. "Rhiannon, watch your tone."

"I'm just concerned for the Covenant's future," I shrugged. "With war on the horizon, everyone should be in their proper place."

Lilith flinched in his arms, feigning fear. "Rhiannon, I haven't been well. Lucius was just worried about the child…"

"Of course," I nodded. "The heir is what's most important."

Lucius gave me a long, hard look, his voice edged with a warning. "By the way, Rhiannon," he cautioned, "stop drinking from those cheap blood bags. Your low-grade cravings will taint the heir's bloodline."

The heir's purity.

He wasn't worried about my health. He was worried I'd mess up his plan to swap the babies.

I nodded, feigning obedience.

But the moment I was back in my rooms, I threw a handful of blood-craving suppressants into my mouth.

There was no heir in my womb.

And this time, I couldn't wait to watch them scramble for a scapegoat for Lilith's little monster.