Three Days to Ash

I walked through the doors of the Tribunal of Vows for the last time.

The sharp obsidian steps stung the soles of my feet, and with every step, a sharp pain shot through my chest, as if my very veins were freezing solid.

The final stage of Bloodline Depletion had destroyed my regenerative abilities, making even the simple act of walking an agony.

"I am here to request the dissolution of my Eternal Blood Vow with the Prince."

The tribunal official looked at my ashen face with sympathetic eyes and asked in a low voice,

"Miss, do you not have a clan's protection?"

In all the years of our vow, Damien never promised me a true bonding ceremony, nor did he ever bring me to public gatherings.

As a result, very few among the Kindred even knew of my existence.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I cut him off. "A vampire about to turn to ash has no need for protection."

Just as the words left my mouth, the doors of the Tribunal were violently thrown open.

Damien's roar echoed throughout the hall. "Seraphina! What kind of game are you playing?"

I turned to see the fury blazing in his crimson eyes.

Behind him, Isabella glided in, a mask of perfect concern on her face.

"You had to pull a stunt like this today of all days?" Damien rushed before me in a few strides. "Isabella was just promoted to Vice President of the Nightfall Group. The entire clan is celebrating her, and you choose today to create this scene?"

He raised his hand, and a surge of his power sent me flying. My back slammed hard against the marble wall.

Once, my power had been as strong as Damien's, but now, I was too weak to block even the most basic pain. My entire body ached from the impact.

A bitter smile touched my lips. In all my centuries as a vampire, I never thought that on the verge of my death, I would be reacquainted with the long-forgotten sensation of pain.

It took me a few seconds to remember what day it was. Isabella's promotion party.

Damien had specifically canceled a two-day negotiation with the European elders just to celebrate her ascension to the company's executive ranks.

And I, his Vow-mate, dying from the final stages of Bloodline Depletion, was berated for 'causing a scene' simply for sending a desperate plea for help through our bond.

Tears blurred my vision, but I fought to keep them from falling.

Just as I was about to speak, I felt a violent surge of chaos in my bloodline's energy, and blood uncontrollably trickled from the corner of my lips. The droplets splattered on the floor, blossoming like deep crimson flowers on the white marble.

Clinging to one last shred of hope, I managed to steady myself and tried to explain, my voice trembling, "Damien, I really didn't…"

Damien must have seen the blood seeping from my lips, because his brow furrowed slightly.

Isabella's gentle voice chimed in at the perfect moment. "But sister, the Prince rushed over specifically to help you with your troubles…"

"I told you not to bother with her. She's nothing but trouble," my mother Eleanor's voice came through our bond.

"She's used every dirty trick in the book to get our attention since she was a fledgling. Does she really expect us to fall for such a clumsy performance now?"

Damien's expression turned to ice in an instant. "Seraphina, you'd go so far as to harm yourself just to lure me here and ruin Isabella's celebration?"

He advanced on me, his fingers clamping onto my chin. Isabella rushed to pull at his arm.

Tears filled Isabella's eyes as she looked at me with feigned helplessness, her voice trembling with a pleading tone.

"I'm sorry, sister. I shouldn't have accepted this position, it's all my fault! Please, stop torturing yourself!

"The Prince has already worried himself sick over you. If you can truly repent, I swear I'll never accept another honor again!"

Her every word was a dagger to my heart, pushing me further into the abyss, painting me as the venomous aggressor.

Though it wasn't the first time I'd witnessed this touching display between them, my heart still felt as if it were being carved out with a wooden stake each time.

It had been a long time since I'd felt the maternal love that should have been mine. Now, it was all poured onto Isabella.

But it didn't matter anymore. When you're dying, you tend to see many things with a new clarity.

My heart was a barren wasteland. The energy in my bloodline roiled once more, and more blood spilled from my lips.

Damien snatched the blood test report from my hand. After a quick scan, he sneered, "Bloodline Depletion? You can't even fake an illness convincingly."

The sound of tearing paper filled the silence.

The report was torn to shreds, the scraps of paper fluttering down at my feet.

His cold gaze lingered on my colorless lips for half a second.

As our eyes met, I remembered the deep crimson pools that had once shone with adoration during our First Embrace a century ago, now as dull and lifeless as stagnant water.

I raised a trembling hand to wipe away the blood, my body swaying as I turned back to the tribunal official.

"I no longer have the protection of a clan. So that I may turn to ash in three days, please help me complete the dissolution ceremony."

Damien's body shuddered slightly. He grabbed my wrist. "You'd drag the Tribunal's officials into your little drama just to ruin Isabella's party!" His voice was laced with fury. "This is absurd!

"Seraphina, I advise you to come back with me immediately. Don't stand here and humiliate yourself."

With his arm around Isabella's waist, Damien turned and walked toward the door without a backward glance.

I looked at my reddened wrist and shook my head with a small, bitter laugh.

I should have known. He would never believe me, would he?

Fighting through the discomfort wracking my body, I unilaterally completed the application process for the dissolution.

The moment my body turns to ash, the dissolution decree will automatically appear on Damien's desk.

In the last seventy-two hours of my life, I severed the sanguine bond that had drained me dry.

And my husband, the Prince of the Kindred, was holding another woman, raising a glass to her glory.