Chapter 3

I spent the entire night fighting the excruciating pain of my Bloodline Depletion.

At dawn, the roar of a sports car engine echoed from downstairs.

My parents and Isabella had returned.

Even from outside, their angry accusations reached me.

"Seraphina, you still have the nerve to come back here?"

The door was thrown open violently. The fury in my father Richard's eyes looked as if it could devour me whole.

"You ruined Isabella's promotion party! She cried herself sick begging you to stop!"

"And you don't feel the slightest bit of guilt?"

"Apologize to Isabella, now!"

I closed my eyes, a fresh wave of pain washing over me. It's okay. Less than seventy hours left.

Once, he had treated me with that same warm, protective instinct.

Back then, when I struggled to control my bloodlust, my father would patiently console me. "It's alright, Seraphina. Everyone moves at their own pace."

He even scoured the underground black markets himself, searching for the sweetest, purest blood sources for me, soothing my hunger-wracked body time and time again.

But everything changed after Isabella arrived.

She could hunt independently in her first year after being turned, quickly becoming one of the Kindred's elite and Damien's most capable aide.

And I, despite my pureblood title, could barely shadow-walk, and my combat skills were the worst in the entire clan.

She replaced me, becoming the brilliant and capable daughter in my father's eyes. And because of the nature of her turning-vow, my father never suspected the venomous heart beneath her gentle exterior.

Stranger still, ever since Isabella's arrival, I had grown progressively weaker for reasons I couldn't explain.

I was constantly nauseous and dizzy, and even the simplest wounds were incredibly slow to heal.

The clan's alchemists said it was a problem with my innate constitution, that I couldn't bear the weight of the Kindred's bloodline.

But no matter how hard I tried, my physical condition only worsened.

Disappointment began to appear in my father's eyes.

"Seraphina, look at Isabella, and then look at yourself. She's so exceptional right after being turned, how can you be so mediocre?"

"As Prince Damien's Vow-mate, how can you manage his household in this sickly state? How can you hold your own among the elite?"

"If it weren't for that damned pureblood alliance, do you think you could have ever hoped to marry the Prince?"

Eventually, the look in his eyes turned from disappointment to shame.

It was as if looking at me for even a moment would sully his sight. Isabella was his proud masterpiece.

I forced my heavy eyelids open and looked at Isabella, standing behind my parents.

"Sister, let's make up, okay? Just like when we were little," her voice was sickeningly sweet, her eyes welling with tears, projecting an image of someone who had been wronged but was still magnanimous.

This had always been her specialty.

"Do you remember that perfume you made for me?" Isabella took a step forward. "Tomorrow is my official first day in my new position. Could you blend another bottle of 'Midnight Bloom' for me? As a celebration of my new beginning."

A flicker of relief crossed my mother Eleanor's eyes, and she quickly urged me,

"Isn't this the only thing you're good at? Seraphina, Isabella is offering you an olive branch. You're getting off easy, so hurry up and do it!"

I froze. That bottle of "Midnight Bloom" threw me back a century.

Back then, not long after Isabella had been turned by my father, I had excitedly blended a perfume for her, carefully selecting the most precious midnight bloom petals.

Just because she said she loved the scent of Midnight Bloom, I endured countless burns on my fingers from its essence.

While the essence of Midnight Bloom was nowhere near as potent as vervain, for a vampire with a weak bloodline like me, even the fumes during the distillation process made me feel faint.

But I gritted my teeth and persisted, finally creating the perfect perfume.

The result was that after Isabella wore it, she broke out in terrifying red blotches that same night.

The alchemist determined that an ingredient in the Midnight Bloom was incompatible with the source of Isabella's blood.

The first thing she did after waking up was to throw herself into Damien's arms, crying, "Your Highness, the perfume was a labor of love from my sister. She said it would be good for my newly turned bloodline… Please don't blame her, it's all my fault for being too greedy!"

I stood helplessly outside the door, trapped by Damien's murderous gaze.

"I had no idea there was an incompatible ingredient. The formula was perfectly fine…"

Damien didn't listen to a word I said. He took my daylight ring and locked me in a sunroom for three whole days.

It was a living nightmare.

No blood, no water, not even basic shelter.

I curled up in a corner of the glass room, the glaring sun scorching my skin, listening to the sounds of laughter from outside as they celebrated Isabella's "recovery."

When I was finally let out, my skin was covered in festering sores, and I could barely stand.

"Have you forgotten?" I looked coldly at Isabella's duplicitous face. "Midnight Bloom is toxic to you."

The mention of this made the atmosphere in the room instantly awkward.

Just then, Damien pushed the door open.

He heard our conversation and his steps faltered for a moment.

In truth, during those three months in the sunroom, even when I was tortured to the point of losing consciousness, I could still sense through our bond that he had come to see me secretly in the dead of night.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Now, he was completely on Isabella's side.

"Toxic?" Isabella let out a soft laugh, a barely perceptible nervousness in her voice. "Sister Seraphina, that was ages ago."

She deliberately moved closer to me. "I'm much stronger now. That minuscule amount of toxin is nothing to me. A century of experience has made my bloodline unbreakable."

As she spoke, she held out her hand, as if to prove something. "See? I'm not afraid of Midnight Bloom at all."

Her nails dug into my skin, the pressure increasing.

Just as the pain forced me to wrench my arm away, she "unexpectedly" fell to the ground.

And in the moment she fell, I saw it clearly: she emptied a small vial, hidden in her sleeve, onto her own arm.