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Terms & Conditions Apply

ผู้เขียน: Magdeleina Thomson
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2026-01-22 14:06:33

Samantha POV

Mirelle arrived exactly when she said she would.

Which told me everything I needed to know.

The Sanctuary alerted me thirty seconds before her physical manifestation—not because it had to, but because it wanted to watch my reaction. The house had opinions now. Strong ones. It pulsed softly through the floor, a reminder that I was not alone, not cornered, not small.

Lucien was already at my side.

Not looming.

Not guarding.

Present.

That mattered.

Sébastien lounged three ste
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  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   The Hunger Line

    Samantha POV The door closed behind Cassius with a sound far too final for my liking. Not slammed. Not sealed. Just… gone. Like he’d stepped out of the equation and left the variables to fight it out alone. The Solar felt larger without him. Emptier. The kind of empty that doesn’t mean peace—just fewer witnesses. Lucien stayed close. Too close, maybe. But I didn’t have the energy to care. My body had started to feel wrong in a way I couldn’t intellectualize away. Not pain. Not yet. Just… depletion. Like someone had unplugged me from a charger I hadn’t realized I was still using. I swallowed and immediately regretted it. My stomach twisted, sharp and hollow, like it had collapsed inward on itself. “I’m really hungry,” I said quietly. Lucien looked down at me instantly. “We can eat.” “No,” I breathed. “I mean—hungry hungry.” Sébastien, leaning against the far wall like a morally questionable gargoyle, tilted his head. “That sounded ominous.” The Sanctuary reacted be

  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   The abomination clause

    Samantha POVFor three full seconds after the door sealed behind Elias, my brain refused to process anything but the sound of my own blood.Not the Sanctuary’s hum.Not Lucien’s breath.Not Cassius standing there like a cathedral that had just realized it was built on a fault line.Just… blood.My pulse was too loud. Too human. Too fragile.And on the ultrasound screen—still glowing on the table like a cruel little billboard—there it was.A flicker.A heartbeat.Alive.Real.Mine.I stared at it until the edges of my vision softened, like my eyes were trying to blur it out the way the Council blurred their faces when they did something evil.But the Sanctuary didn’t blur it.It held the image steady.Witness.Lucien’s hands hovered near my shoulders, not touching, as if contact might break me—or worse, convince him to do something irreversible. His rage was a furnace through the bond, but underneath it was something I’d never felt from him so raw it almost made me sick.Fear.Not for

  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   The apprentice protocol

    Samantha POV Cassius didn’t ask the Sanctuary to let his apprentice in. He informed it. Which was somehow worse—because the house responded like it had been waiting for the command. The crystalline veins in the corridor lit in a clean, obedient sequence, gold rippling outward like a runway clearing for landing. Lucien felt it instantly. I felt him stiffen beside me, every instinct sharpening. “That should not happen,” he said quietly. “I know,” I replied. “It didn’t ask me.” The door opened anyway. Not wide. Not welcoming. Just enough. A man stepped inside. Young—for a vampire. Not reckless-young, but unfinished. Dark hair pulled back, posture straight to the point of stiffness, eyes too clean, too certain. The kind of certainty that didn’t come from experience, but from doctrine. He stopped when he saw Lucien. Not in fear. In reverence. “My King,” he said, bowing his head just enough to be respectful without being submissive. Lucien didn’t answer. His silence was d

  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   Status: verified ( and absolutely not fine)

    Samantha POV Cassius did not dramatize the announcement. Which, frankly, made it infinitely more terrifying. No thunder. No ritual circle. No blood-on-stone theatrics that vampires apparently loved when they wanted to feel important. He simply stood in the Heart, adjusted the cuffs of his coat like a man about to deliver lab results, and said: “I will notify the Houses.” Lucien stiffened beside me. Sébastien, who had been lounging far too comfortably against a pillar, straightened immediately. “And?” I asked. “You’re going to tell them what, exactly?” Cassius met my gaze. Calm. Precise. Controlled. “That I have verified the continuity of sovereign architecture,” he said. “That the Sanctuary recognizes you. That the Queen’s mark is intrinsic, not induced.” He paused. “That the reincarnation is authentic.” The Sanctuary hummed once—low, satisfied. I snorted. “Wow. That’s it? No behold? No kneel, you fools?” Cassius’s mouth twitched. “I am a healer, not a cult leader.”

  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   The one the sanctuary let on

    Samantha POVThe Sanctuary did not warn me.That was the first problem.No tightening of the light. No shift in the crystalline veins beneath the floor. No polite hum of incoming presence detected like it had done every other time someone so much as thought about crossing its thresholds.Instead—There was a knock.Not loud. Not demanding.Just… deliberate.Three measured taps against the Heart’s outer doors.I froze with my palm still pressed to the dais, the aftertaste of the Council’s blackmail still bitter on my tongue. The air felt clean—too clean—like the Sanctuary had scrubbed reality after Mirelle’s projection and decided it didn’t want the residue.Lucien felt the knock through the bond before I even breathed.His presence snapped to attention—sharp, protective, violently controlled.“No one was scheduled,” he said, voice low enough to vibrate in my ribs.Sébastien shifted in the shadows behind us, where he’d been pretending not to listen while absolutely listening.“That’s b

  • The House Beneath the Blood Moon   undocumented feature

    Samantha POV The first symptom wasn’t nausea. Which annoyed me, because if I was going to have a full-blown existential crisis, I would have liked the courtesy of a recognizable trope. No, the first symptom was silence. Not the Sanctuary’s—mine. The constant background hum in my head, the mental dashboards, the threat matrices, the thousand tiny calculations that had become my new normal since the Core Protocol? They… muted. Not gone. Paused. Like something had pressed hold on reality and was waiting to see what I’d do next. I stood alone in the east corridor, one hand braced against cool stone, the other pressed flat against my abdomen like that might explain something. It didn’t. My body felt… fine. Too fine. No pain. No weakness. No flare of light threatening to burn down a wing of the manor. Just a strange, grounded heaviness. As if gravity had subtly renegotiated our contract. “Okay,” I whispered. “Either I’m about to unlock a new power tier, or my uterus is stag

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