I Found Out My Vampire Husband Had a Secret Family, so I Faked My Death

Eleanor's POV

On the way here, I'd still been clinging to hope.

Cassian had been so good to me. In five years, I had never once doubted his sincerity.

I couldn't imagine him deceiving me. I was still making excuses for him in my head.

Maybe I had it wrong. Maybe the clerk had made a mistake.

But now, everything seemed like a cruel joke.

The basic potion I'd bought on the black market could only mask a human's scent for a short time.

More powerful elixirs could even conceal a vampire's bloodline, but using one for too long could make it turn on the user.

The dealer had warned me repeatedly not to get too close to a high-ranking vampire.

So at that moment, all I could do was hide in the trees, watching them from a distance across the carefully decorated courtyard.

The living room's floor-to-ceiling windows had their curtains drawn back.

Cassian casually scooped up the boy, who looked about four.

The child had one arm around his neck, the other holding up a toy airplane, chattering nonstop in his ear.

Cassian didn't show a hint of impatience.

When the boy got excited, he would nod along. He would pick up toys that fell to the ground.

That patient look was one I knew all too well.

My first pregnancy came shortly after our wedding. I lost the baby after an accidental fall down the stairs, and my mood stayed dark for a long time.

Whenever I woke in the middle of the night after dreaming about the baby I had lost, I would cry.

No matter how tired Cassian was, he would turn on the bedside lamp and pull me into his arms.

He would wipe my tears and tell me not to blame myself.

"Eleanor, we'll have another child."

"And even if we don't, that's okay. You'll always be my wife."

Back then, I truly believed I had married a man who loved me.

When I miscarried the second time, I started wondering if something was wrong with my body.

By the third, I couldn't even bear to look at baby supplies.

But Cassian never blamed me. Not once.

He became even more careful with me. He reviewed every medication himself, vetted every doctor, and kept better track of my sleep schedule than I did.

Everyone envied me.

The human bride chosen by the Elder Council had actually won the heart of the heir to the throne.

But now, Cassian already had a four-year-old child in his arms.

A child who called him Daddy as naturally as breathing.

The woman handed Cassian a glass of wine, then reached up to straighten his collar.

Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world, letting her lean against his shoulder.

She was Seraphina Vale.

I had never seen her before, but I recognized the ring on her hand instantly.

It was identical to mine.

The only difference was the engraving on the inside.

Mine had nothing.

Hers read, in words my husband had personally requested: "Love you forever."

Every gesture between them was too intimate, too natural.

As if I were the one intruding on their family, an outsider spying on a happy family of three.

I dug my nails into my palm without realizing it, watching that cozy scene, cold sweat breaking out all over my body.

After a while, the child grabbed a toy and ran into the yard.

Cassian and Seraphina followed.

I immediately stepped back deeper into the shadows.

The night breeze blew toward me, carrying a faint trace of perfume.

I froze.

I had smelled that scent too many times before.

The first year of our marriage, on my birthday, Cassian got a phone call just before dinner.

He said something urgent had come up at the office and he had to handle it in person.

I waited alone until the early hours of the morning.

The frosting on the cake had collapsed, and still he hadn't come home.

The next morning, he appeared in the bedroom right on time.

He lifted me out from under the covers, kissed my forehead, and soothed me over and over.

"I'm sorry."

"Next year, I'll make sure to clear my schedule ahead of time."

That day, I had smelled this same perfume on his shirt.

I asked about it, just once.

Cassian only said that a woman who worked for him had stood too close while briefing him.

I believed him.

After that, every anniversary, every birthday of mine, even Cassian's own birthday, something would suddenly come up that day.

Sometimes it was a company meeting. Sometimes the Elder Council summoned him on short notice.

He never disappeared for too long.

By the next morning, he would be back without fail.

He would bring flowers, bring gifts, and wrap me in his arms when I looked a little disappointed.

He always said it wouldn't happen next time.

And I always believed him.

That perfume would sometimes come back with him too.

I never asked again.

I believed he was simply too busy with work. After all, he spent most of his free time with me, and he had never once lost his temper at me.

Cassian was so patient with me, so gentle. I didn't want to be the suspicious, paranoid wife.

But now, Seraphina was standing just a short distance away.

The night breeze carried the scent of her perfume straight to me.

Exactly the same.

It hit me all at once.

All those nights I had sat alone with a cake, a dinner, and a gift, Cassian hadn't been at the office at all.

He had been here.

With Seraphina.

With their child.

He had been in this little home I never knew existed.

It felt as if something had ripped my heart apart.

All this time, I had thought Cassian was simply too busy.

I had even felt grateful that he always came back the next day to comfort me, telling myself I should be satisfied with that.

He had planned it all out, certain I wouldn't press him or get angry.

For him, it was easy: finish here, then go home and soothe the wife who knew nothing.

The child was soon taken back inside by a servant.

But Seraphina didn't go in.

She stood beside Cassian, the smile on her face slowly fading.

"Has the Elder Council been pressuring you again lately?"

Cassian didn't answer.

Seraphina went on, "They chose Eleanor because of her bloodline, didn't they? What if she actually gets pregnant again?"

Cassian replied in a flat tone, "Then we do the same as before. Take care of her for a couple of days after the miscarriage and she'll be fine. She's easy to manage."

My fingers clenched tight.

The yard was so quiet I could hear every word they said.

Seraphina asked in a low voice, "She's been pregnant three times already... What if the next one actually survives?"

Cassian reached over and took her hand.

His tone was calm.

"It won't."

Seraphina looked at him.

Then Cassian added, "Don't worry. She won't give birth to my child."

My ears rang.

For a split second, I almost thought I had misheard.

But Cassian's expression was too calm.

Like he was talking about something whose outcome he had known all along.

He patted the back of the woman's hand gently, murmuring words of reassurance.

The certainty in his voice sent my mind back to my second and third miscarriages.

The first miscarriage had been an accident.

Cassian wasn't home that night. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would take a walk in the garden, but I ended up falling down the stairs.

After that, I became extremely careful.

During my second pregnancy, I barely dared to go out alone. I would jolt awake at the slightest abdominal pain, even in my sleep.

Before bed, I would always lock the bedroom door, terrified I might wander out for air while half-asleep and fall down the stairs again.

Cassian spent a long time reassuring me before I finally relaxed and stopped being so frightened.

But not long after, he started getting busier and busier, sometimes only showing up once a week.

Even when he came home, he always had more work to deal with.

I held onto him and told him I hadn't been sleeping well, that I hoped he could stay with me tonight.

He just kissed my forehead.

"Eleanor, be good. Once I get through this busy stretch, things will calm down."

I never blamed him.

He was the heir to the throne. I even felt guilty for wanting him to drop everything and stay with me just because I was pregnant.

But half-vampire pregnancies were inherently unstable in the early stages.

Going for long stretches without the baby's father left me anxious, destabilizing the baby's bloodline and steadily draining my body.

During both of those pregnancies, my health deteriorated by the day.

I couldn't sleep or eat. Doctors and medication were the only things keeping me going.

Then I lost the baby again.

That day, Cassian finally came home.

He sat by my hospital bed and held me all night, telling me it wasn't my fault, that we would have another child.

I cried in his arms, even feeling grateful that at least my husband didn't blame me.

But now, standing outside another woman's yard, I finally understood.

While I lay awake all night trying to save his child, he was with Seraphina.

While I cried and begged him to come home and stay with me for just one night, he was with the child who called him Daddy.

He knew perfectly well that if things kept going this way, the baby inside me would most likely not survive.

And still, he chose not to come home. Again and again.

Because he never wanted me to give birth to his child in the first place.

Perhaps, when I lost the first baby to that accident, he had actually felt relieved.

My stomach lurched violently.

I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound.

Cassian seemed to sense something and suddenly looked toward the yard's perimeter.

I immediately held my breath.

The black-market potion was wearing off.

I didn't dare stay any longer. I turned in silence and retraced my steps.

It wasn't until I had walked a long way that I realized my legs had been shaking the entire time.

My hand ached from clutching the ring so tightly.

Over those five years, I had blamed myself countless times for the three miscarriages.

I had even wondered if the Elder Council had chosen the wrong person, if I simply wasn't worthy of Cassian's love.

But every time, Cassian would hold me and say it wasn't my fault.

And each time, I grew more dependent on him because of it.

Now, looking back, it only made me sick.

Of course he never blamed me.

Because he probably knew better than anyone why those babies never survived.

By the time I got home, it was almost dawn.

The flowers I had ordered for our anniversary still sat in the entryway.

On the table lay the matching necklace set I had bought that day for our anniversary.

A servant asked if I wanted to wait for Cassian to come home.

I looked at his empty seat and couldn't bring myself to say a single word.

For five years, I had believed I was the lady of this house.

Now I knew. Five years of marriage had been nothing but an elaborate lie.