Chapter 5

Tears of joy streamed down Lucy's face as she answered with a trembling voice, "I do! Augustine, of course I do!"

The priest beamed. "May God bless this union and grant you many children!"

Watching this absurd ceremony, I was thrown back five hundred years to my own wedding.

Before this very same kind of altar, Augustine had knelt on one knee and said to me with that same deep love in his eyes, "Haley, will you be my mate for all eternity?"

The same look, the same tone.

A cold laugh escaped my lips, but my eyes betrayed me, filling with tears.

So, to Augustine, our five-hundred-year love was just a script he could reuse.

A different woman, a different day, but the performance remained the same.

I fought to control my emotions, recorded the entire scene, and sent it to Clara.

In the church, Augustine was kissing Lucy, holding her as if they were truly newlyweds.

Back at the castle, I began to pack.

The room was filled with five hundred years of memories: photos of us, gifts he'd given me, souvenirs from our travels…

One by one, I tossed them into the fireplace.

The flames consumed the things I once treasured, just as they were consuming my past.

Finally, I picked up our portrait. It had been painted by the most famous artist of the time. In it, we were locked in a tight embrace, our eyes full of love.

I ripped the canvas in two and threw Augustine’s half into the fire.

Just then, my phone rang.

It was Lucy again.

"We took vows before a priest today. He said I'm his wife now, too."

"So what if you're the Princess? He's mine, too."

I still didn't reply.

As I was about to leave the room, a sharp, violent pain shot through my chest.

It was a tearing agony, as if someone was repeatedly stabbing my heart with a silver knife.

I clutched my chest and collapsed to the floor, curling into a ball of pain.

The old wound. It was acting up.

A hundred years ago, Augustine had been struck by a silver dagger in a battle with werewolves. He was on the brink of death.

To save him, I had given him a massive amount of my own heart's blood, pulling him back from the edge.

I survived, but ever since, my heart would occasionally seize with this excruciating pain. Only Augustine’s blood could soothe it.

With a trembling hand, I dialed his number.

One ring, two, three…

No answer.

I gritted my teeth and dialed again.

The pain intensified, and my vision began to blur.

Finally, the call connected.

I was about to speak when I heard Lucy's whining voice. "Augustine, I feel so awful… being a new vampire hurts all over…"

"Shh, I'll help you feel better," he cooed back at her.

I heard rustling on the other end. He was clearly comforting her, completely unaware that the call was connected.

I opened my mouth, wanting to tell him my old wound had flared up, that I needed his blood.

But as another wave of agony crashed over me, I passed out on the cold floor, my world fading to black.

When I woke up, I was in a bed at the vampire hospital, the sterile scent of disinfectant filling my nose.

The first thing I saw was Augustine’s face, etched with worry and fear.

He sat by my bedside, his eyes full of guilt. He looked haggard.

"Haley, you're finally awake!" he said, gripping my hand. "The doctors said you almost…"

His voice broke. "It's all my fault. If I had been with you, this wouldn't have happened."

Looking at his hypocritical face, I asked in a hoarse voice, "Who were you with?"