The Vampire Lord's Escaped Bride

In the final year of my bond with vampire lord Saul, the curse of our pact struck, and I was overwhelmed by agony, but my lord was nowhere to be found.

He had gone out. He left me to suffer. Alone.

When the door finally creaked open the next morning, I looked up through bloodshot eyes—hope flickering like a dying candle.

But he wasn't alone.

He carried an unconscious woman in his arms, her head resting against his chest like she belonged there.

Ignoring me as I curled up on the floor in pain, he first carried the woman to his room and called the old butler anxiously.

"Jacinda's passed out. Hurry! Check if she's all right!"

The old butler cautiously pleaded on my behalf, hoping our lord could save me first, but Saul frowned and interrupted:

"Jacinda is in danger, and I have no mind to drink her blood now. She just needs to pull through herself. Believe me, she won't die. Right now, the priority is to save Jacinda."

A frown and a glance in my direction was his only response to the old butler's desperate plea.

With my only hope shattered, I clenched my teeth and slashed several long wounds on my arms and hands to drain blood for self-rescue.

After a long period of weak convulsions, the curse of the pact finally ended.

I lay in a pool of blood, sending a message with my last faint consciousness.

"I promise I will leave him."

...

The next day when I woke up, my wounds were bandaged, and the thick smell of blood in the air had vanished, leaving only a faint scent of tobacco.

Was it the old butler who helped me?

I struggled to my feet in a dizzy spell, put on a coat to hide the terrible wounds.

I wanted to find the butler—to thank him.

Right after stepping out of the room, I ran into Saul.

He barely looked at me. A quick, careless glance, then his cold voice:

"Prepare the meal for me."

When I nodded, another dizzy spell hit and I quickly braced myself against the wall. But Saul had already turned around.

He wasn't the same Saul who used to rush over and fuss over me whenever I had the smallest injury.

Following the daily routine, I prepared animal blood and took it to his room.

The woman from last night—Jacinda—was lying in his bed, wrapped in soft blankets, her face peaceful.

I pulled my gaze back and approached the room with the meal.

Saul looked at it, frowned sharply, and in the next second, he slapped the tray out of my hands. Blood splashed across my coat, warm and thick.

Despite his aristocratic bearing, his voice was sharp.

"What is this? Take it away! You're useless! "

The noise woke the woman. Her eyes fluttered open.

Saul immediately leaned forward nervously, asking if she felt any discomfort.

She shook her head, then giggled as her stomach growled. She smiled, sweet and shy.

Saul's frown eased, and he pinched the woman's cheek gently and affectionately.

Then he turned to me again, expression cold as stone. "Go make her something to eat. Now."

That's when I realized I had misunderstood. The woman he brought back wasn't a vampire, but a human. Like me.

After silently stepping out of the room, I heard their conversation at the door.

"Is she a vampire like you too?" Jacinda's voice held curiosity about me.

"No, just my bloodslave. Because of the blood pact, I can only drink her blood, so don't worry, I will never hurt you."

The bond between a human and a vampire lasted for five years. I should have left long ago, but I was willing to stay for him.

I had always thought Saul and I were in love.

But in his eyes, I had always been nothing more than a slave to supply blood.

It was all my one-sided wish.

Moving numbly, I took off the dirty coat, took off the sticky, wet bandage, and went back to the kitchen to prepare human food.

Footsteps came from behind, and Saul was drawn by the smell of blood. "Why does it smell so strong?"

Then he saw the shocking wounds on my arms.

He pulled me over in one motion, looking at me with a complicated expression.

"Did you hurt yourself last night?"

When the pact curse struck, only my lord Saul drinking the my blood could lift the curse, otherwise, I was in absolute agony, lost all sense of reason and restraint. The worse, I would even kill.

The only way I can save myself was: I must make deep cuts on my arms and hands with the silver dagger to drain all my blood.

If I was lucky and I would endure until the curse ended, while I was unlucky, I would went into shock and died.

I was lucky, just like he said I could endure and get through it, and wouldn't die.

What died was my unrealistic expectations of him.

I met his haughty gaze with defiance, refusing to be cowed by his superior attitude. I pulled my arms back and said flatly, "It's nothing."

My indifferent attitude instantly made his eyes turn cold.

"You're blaming me for not saving you."

"I wouldn't dare."

He blocked my hands when I was about to wash dishes and stood by the faucet to stop me from turning it on.

"Wounds shouldn't touch water, so stop doing that."

Again with this commanding tone. I stubbornly refused to let go of the vegetables in my hands.

After a few seconds of stalemate, he snorted coldly: "Do as you please, you fool."

He turned to leave, but after walking a few steps, he stopped and said in a low voice:

"I'll save you next time."

I didn't say a word because there wouldn't be a next time.