Chapter 3

“Here are the finalized illusion-wards for the Western Coven. I’m done. They’re yours now.”

The next day, I finished my last task for the council and tossed the scroll to Orion.

He was the Captain of the Council Guard and the only one I’d call a friend over the last hundred years.

Orion caught it, his brow furrowed. “Are you serious? That position was your…”

He trailed off as a commotion started on the other side of the hall.

Caius was standing there, holding a black velvet box.

He opened it. Inside lay a “Shadow Amulet,” glowing with a faint purple light.

It was an incredibly rare defensive artifact, allowing the wearer to instantly melt into the shadows when in danger.

Even senior elders didn't all have one.

And now, he was fastening it around Evangeline’s neck.

“Oh, Caius!” Evangeline gasped dramatically, her fingertips tracing the amulet. “This is too much… I don’t deserve it.”

“Anything for your safety is worth it,” Caius said, his voice thick with affection.

Evangeline turned her head, her eyes finding me through the crowd.

She deliberately puffed out her chest, making the amulet flash under the lights.

“Larissa!” she called out, loud enough for everyone to turn. “Look! Caius said this will protect me from harm. You think it’s beautiful, don’t you?”

I stared coldly at the amulet.

I was the one who had journeyed into the Abyss fifty years ago, barely surviving, to bring back the raw materials for it.

I had given it to Caius to save his life.

“It is beautiful,” I said, walking toward them. My voice was flat. “But that kind of amulet is for newborns who still can't control their own fangs. It suits you perfectly.”

Evangeline’s smile froze. Her eyes instantly welled with tears.

“Larissa!” Caius pulled Evangeline behind him, glaring at me. “Can you stop being so cruel? It was just a gift! You never used to be this petty.”

I looked at the man I had loved for a century and felt only a cold, alien distance.

“You’re right,” I nodded. “I’m being childish.”

Caius seemed surprised by my quick apology. He relaxed a little. “Good, you see. I’ve booked a table at the ‘Red Velvet Crypt’ tonight. We'll have a nice dinner, clear the air. Consider it my apology.”

I gave a noncommittal shrug.

As I turned to leave, Orion whispered behind me, “Are you really going to put up with this?”

“Put up with it?” I glanced out the window at the black sky. “No. I’m going to take out the trash.”

That night, at the Red Velvet Crypt.

It was Chicago’s most exclusive vampire club.

The moment we sat down, Caius’s eyes fixed on my neck.

“Where’s the necklace?” he frowned. “My centennial gift to you. Why aren’t you wearing it?”

The ashes were probably still in the mansion’s fireplace.

“It’s too precious. I put it away for safekeeping,” I lied easily.

“Right. Too many prying eyes here,” he nodded, not pressing the issue.

Just then, the curtains to our booth were pulled aside.

Evangeline swept in, wearing a revealing red lace dress. She slid into the seat on Caius’s other side as if it were her own.

“You’re here, too?” I raised an eyebrow.

“She was scared to be alone,” Caius explained, then snapped his fingers. “Bring us the best you have.”

A server brought a crystal decanter.

Inside swirled a golden-red liquid—“Artist’s Blood.”

Harvested from mortals with sublime creative inspiration, it induced a powerful psychic euphoria in vampires.

“This is for you two.” Caius poured most of it into Evangeline’s glass, leaving me with just a swallow at the bottom. “Evangeline’s been on edge lately. She needs this.”

Evangeline lifted her glass, her eyes hazy as she stared at Caius. She licked the rim of her cup.

“Thank you, darling,” she purred, her voice low but loud enough for me to hear. “It’s just like the other night… when you hunted this for me. That Blood Rush was absolutely divine. I never knew losing control could feel so… exquisite.”

Blood Rush.

A state where a vampire, high on prime blood, not only has their power surge, but their libido hits its peak.

So while I was fasting and praying for our wedding, they were out in the wild, indulging in this filthy ecstasy.

A violent wave of nausea rose in my throat.

“Larissa, why aren’t you drinking?” Caius prompted.

I stared at the golden-red liquid in my glass. All I could see were their tangled bodies.

“It’s dirty,” I said, pushing the glass away.

“What did you say?” Caius’s face darkened. “This is the finest vintage!”

“I said, this blood has a foul stench I don’t like.” I stood up, looking down on them. “I don’t drink leftovers.”

“You—”

Evangeline suddenly clutched her chest.

Her glass slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.

“Ah… Caius, I can’t… The power is too strong, I can’t take it…” She collapsed into his arms, shaking.

Caius panicked, scooping her up.

“She can’t handle it! I have to get her back and help her ride it out!”

He turned to me, his eyes annoyed. “Larissa, get home on your own. You can see this is an emergency.”

With that, he rushed out of the booth, carrying that pathetic actress.

He didn’t spare a single glance for the fiancée he was leaving behind.

The booth fell silent.

My body dissolved into a black mist and vanished.

I reappeared on a private airstrip on the outskirts of the city.

“Your Highness.”

My family’s royal guard knelt as one.

I walked up the red-carpeted ramp onto the jet.

Just then, my communicator vibrated.

It was Caius.

“I’m not coming home tonight. Evangeline is in bad shape. I have to stay with her all night. Don’t overthink it. Get some sleep. I promise, we'll schedule a new ceremony.”

My eyes went cold. My fingers flew across the screen.

“Don’t bother. Our betrothal is over.”

The moment the message sent, I closed my eyes and dove deep into my soul.

There, the faint, glowing claim Caius had burned into me a century ago when he proposed pulsed.

It was once my most treasured promise, the symbol of his claim on me.

In the next second, I summoned the ancient power I had kept dormant for a century. With a silent scream that ripped through my very essence, I shattered it.

Agony was a firestorm, but the claim—the mark of my century of shame—dissolved into nothing.

From this moment on, Caius and I were nothing.

“Take off,” I ordered. “We’re going home.”