Chapter 2

Elena's POV

“Sis!”

Vicky's shrill voice yanked me back from my memories.

She glared at me, eyes red, like someone had done her the gravest injustice in the world.

“Say something!”

“You knew I liked Ryan. Why would you steal my place?”

I slowly lifted my head and looked at her.

She wore a blush-pink gown, her hair pinned up in an elegant arrangement, the ruby necklace my mother had left me clasped around her neck.

In my last life, she'd been wearing that same necklace when she drove the knife into my chest.

I looked at her. There was no wound on me now, but the phantom pain of a blade piercing my heart came back all the same.

My hand moved on instinct to press against my chest, and flecks of hatred ignited in my eyes.

Vicky was startled by the look on my face, then grew angrier.

“Stop playing the victim.”

“Ryan was always meant to choose me.”

“You only got lucky because he pulled you out of the lake.”

Stepmother approached me, her voice dropping cool.

“Elena. It's time to be sensible.”

“Vicky is far better suited to marry into the vampire royal family than you are.”

“If you truly care about this family, you'll go to Ryan yourself, set things straight, and give Vicky the bride's place.”

Father sat on the sofa without speaking. His brow was furrowed, as if vexed by the matter or perhaps carefully weighing something.

In my last life, hearing these words had nearly broken me.

It was the first time anyone had chosen me publicly.

It was the first time I had let myself believe I could finally leave this cold house behind.

So I had refused, desperately, miserably.

I held back tears and said that Ryan had chosen me. That this was the Elder Council's decision. That I hadn't stolen anything from Vicky.

No one listened.

I couldn't explain to them that Ryan and I had already been secretly together for two years, and if I had tried, they probably would have assumed I'd lost my mind, that I'd invented some scandal too outlandish to believe.

In the end, Vicky's crying wore Father down, and he had me thrown out of the house.

That night, it was pouring rain.

I walked the streets in Ryan's coat, body still cold and shaking, for the better part of the night.

I didn't dare look back. There was nowhere to go.

Eventually I sold the few pieces of jewelry I still had on me, rented a small, damp room, and didn't return until the night before the wedding, when Father came for me with a face like stone.

During that month, I worked days at a flower shop and spent my evenings transcribing invitations for noble ladies. When I couldn't make enough to eat, I went to bed hungry.

By the end of that month, I had lost a visible amount of weight.

But I never once considered selling Ryan's coat.

Any single button on that coat could have kept me fed for a month.

And yet I had gone so long without anyone caring about me.

Every night I went to sleep holding that coat.

As if holding it tightly enough could prove that the tenderness of that evening hadn't been a dream.

Looking back now, it was almost funny.

I slowly lowered my eyes to the black coat I had been clutching against me all this while.

Embroidered on it was the crest of the vampire royal family. The fabric was exquisite, the buttons set with dark red stones.

It had once been the thing I was most unwilling to let go of.

Now it only turned my stomach.

I let go.

The coat slid out of my hands and dropped to the floor.

…

The sitting room went completely silent.

Vicky stared.

Stepmother stared.

Even Father looked up, unable to understand what had come over me.

I looked at the coat lying on the floor and laughed at the foolish, pitiful version of myself who had once clung to it so desperately.

Ryan's tenderness. His honeyed promises. The hollow comfort he'd offered me in place of real protection.

All of it was exactly like that coat: beautiful, ice-cold, and utterly, completely empty. You couldn't feel the slightest warmth from it, no matter how close you held it.

Vicky recovered first.

She practically threw herself across the room, snatching the coat up from the floor and hugging it to her chest.

“If you don't want it, give it to me!”

She shot me a wary look, as though afraid I might change my mind.

“This belongs to Ryan. What right do you have to throw it on the floor?”

I watched her clutch it like something precious, and suddenly felt like laughing.

This was how she had always been, from the time we were children.

My dresses, she wanted. My jewelry, she wanted. Everything Mother had left me, she wanted.

Even things I had already given up, she would grab away to prove she had won.

But this time, I felt no pain at all.

If anything, I felt lighter.

If Vicky likes it, let her have it.

The coat.

Ryan.

I didn't want any of it anymore.

Father's eyes held hesitation, and something else buried deep: a flicker of doubt.

He knew what Ryan choosing me meant. The power of the royal family behind this marriage. The Elder Council's approval. The chance for our family to return to the upper circles of society.

He couldn't bring himself to let it go.

But he couldn't stand to see his treasured Vicky upset, either.

In my last life, I hadn't understood until the moment I died.

No one in this family had ever truly cared what I wanted.

So I would stop expecting anything from them.

I lowered my eyes and smiled softly.

It was a docile, accommodating smile, almost like the old me, the one who still knew how to be good.

Father was visibly startled.

In his memory, I had always responded to moments like this with a stubborn, wooden silence, eyes that made him uncomfortable with their quiet, accusatory disappointment.

But this time I wore no expression at all. I simply smiled.

“All right,” I said quietly.

Everyone in the room looked at me.

Vicky held the coat, her eyes lighting up and then going cautious, like she didn't quite dare believe it.

“What did you say?”

I raised my head, met her flushed, eager face, and said each word clearly.

“I agree to the exchange.”

“The position of Ryan's vampire bride — I'm giving it to you.”