Chapter 1

When he saw me stumble out of the fire on my own, covered in ash and barely able to stand, the tightness in Jaeren’s brow loosened for a brief moment.

The next second, his expression hardened, his voice low.

“Why can’t you ever make things easier for me?”

He stepped closer, his tone turning sharp.

“To get you out, I had over thirteen hundred people deployed. The church—and half the block—was destroyed.”

“Two firefighters are dead. Do you even realize what the hell you’ve done?”

His voice dropped further, as if he were forcing it under control.

“Setting a fire just to test whether I love you is already insane enough. Why did you drag Cersei into it?”

“Do you ever use that brain of yours?”

Only then did it become clear to me.

Cersei set the fire.

And she told him it was me.

And he believed her.

I lowered my head and said nothing.

Jaeren kept staring at me, something like confusion beginning to surface in his eyes.

“What happened? Usually, I only have to say a few words and you cry like the world’s ending.”

“You’re not crying this time?”

He frowned slightly, his voice edged with questioning.

“Where are your tears?” he asked slowly.

My tears had already been traded away to the vampire who wanted to taste what human emotions felt like.

Once.

To make his birthday gift, I carved him a one-of-a-kind wooden eagle by hand.

The carving knife sliced my fingers until they bled, and I kept carving through tears.

He only glanced at it and scoffed, saying it was too ugly to suit the heir of North America’s most elite financial dynasty.

At his birthday party, the one standing beside him and cutting the cake with him was Cersei.

With the knife in her hand, Cersei hacked through the cake, ruining the eagle-shaped frosting until it was unrecognizable.

He merely ran a hand through her hair and looked at the guests with effortless indifference.

“It’s cake. Once it’s in your mouth, it all tastes the same.”

The crowd laughed along.

I was the only one standing there with tears spilling down my face before I turned and ran.

He still came after me.

Out in the cold wind, he grabbed my wrist, scolding me for making a big deal out of nothing.

“Cersei’s young. She likes to play around.”

“She’s my sister. What, do you think she can steal your place as my fiancée?”

Then he took the wooden eagle from my hands and placed it on his car dashboard.

If not for that fire, I might have gone on living inside that illusion forever—being criticized, being dismissed, yet still being kept.

My tears had long since run dry.

All that remained was the ash the fire had left behind.

I lifted my head numbly and said in a low voice,

“I didn’t set the fire.”

Jaeren froze for a fraction of a second.

But just as quickly, the corner of his mouth curled into a cold, knowing smile.

“What, did your innocent act level up?”

“You think not crying this time will make me soften faster than tears?”

At that moment, Cersei trembled against his shoulder, tears spilling instantly.

“Jaeren…” She clutched at his shirt. “Elira didn’t mean it… She just heard you were giving me something that was supposed to be hers. She got upset and lost control for a moment.”

“Elira, you already have the ring that makes you the future mistress of the Calder family. Why can’t you still tolerate me?”

Her voice broke, almost too choked to continue.

“If you hate me, I’ll leave. But why would you set a fire that could have killed me?”

Jaeren Calder. Cersei Calder.

To outsiders, they looked like siblings. In truth, she was only his stepsister, with no blood relation at all.

The air seemed to freeze solid.

Jaeren drew in a slow breath, his voice frighteningly cold.

“Your possessiveness has gotten so bad you’d burn down a church over it?”

“Elira, are you out of your mind?”

Cersei sniffled softly.

“Elira… can you really be Jaeren’s wife after this?”

“Maybe the wedding in seven days should be called off…”

Jaeren cut her off almost instantly.

“Who said it’s canceled?”

Cersei fell silent at once.

He looked at me, his gaze cold.

“You are exhausting.”

“Selfish. Reckless. Always making a scene.”

He paused.

“But the wedding will go on.”

His tone left no room for argument.

“You’re just my stepsister,” he said, turning slightly toward Cersei. “I’ll protect you, but you don’t get to make decisions for me.”

Then he reached out and took the engagement ring off my finger.

“For the next seven days, reflect on what you’ve done,” he said. “I’ll give it back to you at the wedding.”

With that, he put an arm around Cersei’s shoulders and walked away, without looking back.

I stood where I was, filled with something that should have been grief, yet unable to cry.

Seven days later, on the night of the full moon, what awaits me is not a wedding, but the completion of my transformation.

And when I become a vampire, I will finally be able to go home.