Seven Days to Vanish：Escaping My Vampire Prince

The taunts from his new pet started two months ago.

Videos of them tangled together, of Clarence’s obsession with her young body… the cruel truth was shoved in my face.

I never let on that I knew. I just quietly prepared, setting a deadline for my departure: seven days.

In an abandoned church outside New York City, the only light came from the moon filtering through stained-glass windows, casting shattered rainbows on the floor.

I pushed a leather satchel heavy with gold toward the hooded witch.

“I need you to remove the Thorne family crest from my skin. And I need you to make me human. Flawlessly,” my voice echoed in the cavernous, empty church.

The witch opened the satchel, the gleam of the coins lighting up her ancient face.

She sifted through the gold with withered fingers, raising an eyebrow. “It seems the noble Prince’s consort wants to run away… Perhaps you’ll need me to cover your tracks, as well?”

“Yes,” I nodded, my fingers digging into the edge of the pew. “My scent, my trail, everything. I want to be certain no vampire can ever find me.”

“The price is half of all you possess,” she said, her cloudy eyes glinting.

Without hesitating, I pushed a second, equally heavy satchel across the floor.

The witch swept the gold into her robes and leaned forward, her voice a dry rasp. “It will be ready in a week. But I must warn you, my lady. Once you become ‘human,’ everything from your past must vanish completely. The Thorne clan has eyes everywhere. A single lingering trace of your vampire scent, and they will find you.”

I stood, the sharp click of my heels on the stone floor echoing through the silence. “I understand.”

I had never been more certain of anything in my life.

Twenty minutes later, I was lying on a cold ceremonial altar.

Amidst the witch’s chanting, the sizzle of the branding iron was deafening as the bat-shaped crest of the Thorne clan on my collarbone slowly vanished.

The pain was excruciating, like silver being dragged across my skin.

But I clenched my jaw and didn’t make a sound.

In a daze, I felt five centuries of memories, of my love for Clarence, being stripped away with the brand.

When I returned to the castle late that night, the servants were gossiping in low voices.

“His Highness fell for that human woman at first sight. He gave her the Embrace himself, made her a Princess of the Coven.”

“I know. And he swore before all the elders that his love for her would be eternal, undying.”

“So romantic. I wish someone loved me like that.”

I stood in the shadows, listening.

Eternal and undying?

I gave up the sun for him. I gave up my dream of being a painter.

He didn’t keep his promise.

The irony was suffocating.

A faint shift in the air signaled his arrival. Clarence appeared at the door.

He smelled of sweet human blood. And on his neck, barely hidden by his collar, was an angry red bite mark.

“Molly, you’re still awake?” He moved toward me, about to wrap me in his usual embrace.

My stomach turned. I put a hand up, stopping him.

Clarence looked confused, then his eyes fell to my collarbone, to the white bandage covering the spot where his family crest used to be.

“Molly,” his voice turned low, dangerous, “what happened to your crest?”