Chapter 4

"Ah—!" She hit the floor hard, letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

Almost instantly, angry red welts began to appear on her pale arm.

"Isabella!" Eleanor shrieked, rushing to her side. "My God, it's concentrated vervain! She's badly burned!"

The burns spread at a visible rate, crawling up her arm to her neck as her skin started to blister.

It certainly looked like a severe reaction to vervain.

Richard whirled on me and roared, "Seraphina, what did you do to her?"

I hadn't done anything but pull my hand away.

But I knew it was useless to defend myself.

Isabella leaned against Eleanor, whimpering in pain.

"Mother, it hurts so much… like I'm on fire… Sister Seraphina, she didn't mean to…"

Even in her "agony," she was pleading my case, which only enraged everyone else further.

Seeing Isabella's burned skin, Richard turned and roared at me,

"Seraphina! You've gone too far!"

"I… I didn't…" My explanation sounded feeble and weak.

"You didn't what?" Damien strode over, fury blazing in his eyes. "Again! You've hurt her again!"

He lifted Isabella into his arms with painstaking care, his movements unnaturally gentle.

"I told you, I'm really not afraid of Midnight Bloom anymore…" Isabella rested against Damien's solid chest, her breath shallow. "Maybe… my sister had something else on her hands…"

She pleaded for me with her words, but her gaze shot over Damien's shoulder, flashing me a triumphant, vicious sneer.

Only I could see it.

"What was on your hands?" Damien glared at me. "No one touched her but you!"

Watching this perfectly staged scene, a profound sense of despair washed over me.

She had planned everything. Including the concentrated vervain liquid hidden in her sleeve.

"Seraphina!" Damien roared, lunging at me and seizing my throat. "I should have known how venomous your heart is!"

His hand tightened. I struggled to breathe, my vision blurring.

But at the very moment he applied force, a searing pain, as if my soul were being burned, suddenly erupted.

It wasn't coming from me.

It was coming from him.

The blood vow lashed out, punishing him for harming his Vow-mate.

Damien let out a muffled grunt, his face turning pale. His tall frame swayed, and he was forced to release his grip.

I fell against the wall, the dull thud of my back hitting the surface echoing in the room, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

"Damien!" Isabella cried out, her face pale with fright. "What's wrong? Why do you look so terrible?"

He shook his head, fighting back the stabbing pain that came from deep within his bloodline, and looked at me again.

The fury in his eyes was enough to damn me to an abyss.

"Get out! I don't want to see you right now."

He knew, too, that this bizarre backlash came from me.

I slumped to the floor, with nothing more to say.

I would no longer feel the sting of their mistrust.

My heart, along with my fading bloodline, was now completely numb.

Eleanor caught a glimpse of the dark, toxic blood spilling from my lips, and a flicker of pity crossed her eyes.

For a split second, I thought I saw the mother from centuries ago, the one who would gently stroke my cheek.

But the next second, just because Isabella's cries grew more pathetic, she hastily averted her gaze and turned to comfort the daughter who "truly needed her care."

"My darling, how are you feeling?"

I coldly wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed myself up from the cold marble floor.

In the corner of the hall stood a worn-out black suitcase, stuffed with the few old clothes I owned.

I had packed it days ago.

For the past two days, I had been preparing to leave.

They watched my actions with surprise, which was quickly followed by biting sarcasm.

"What, think you've grown wings? Learned to run away from home?

The clan's protection is for your own good, Seraphina. Why can't you see that we're trying to help?

If you step out of this building today, you will never be a member of this family again!"

My father watched me with a blank expression.

"You think running away will solve anything?" Eleanor sneered. "Seraphina, for centuries you've been like this, always trying to escape when things get difficult."

"Just as your father said, how could our pure bloodline produce such a failure."

Damien carefully settled Isabella onto the velvet sofa, then turned around, his face dark.

His eyes held not a trace of warmth, only cold disgust. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Away from the Kindred's territory."

"Seraphina!" he suddenly raised his voice. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Walk out that door, and you are no longer my Vow-mate, much less the Prince's consort."

Centuries of despair had already corroded my soul. My blood core, on the verge of stopping, felt not a single ripple.

I no longer feared losing this so-called home, because this family had never truly given me a sense of belonging.

"Suits me just fine," I said, dragging the suitcase toward the door. "I was never worthy in the first place."

I dragged my suitcase toward the door without a backward glance.