Vampire Husband Begged Me Back After I Broke Our Blood Oath

At our tenth-anniversary banquet, my husband, the vampire duke Alaric, was off sleeping with another woman. I was preparing to leave him.

Ten years ago, the whole Night Continent learned that Alaric, the Progenitor Duke, had married an ordinary low-ranking vampire.

Every vampire envied me.

They said marriage to the most powerful man in the world would give me eternal life, a mark that kept me safe from harm, and the kind of glory all 13 Clans coveted.

But no one knew that to become his wife, I'd been disowned by my father. I'd given up not only my right to inherit but even my mother's ancient bloodline.

From then on, my life was bound to his. His glory was mine to share, and my child would be his only heir.

I used to believe this was true love, and that I was the happiest woman in the world.

Until that night, when Alaric shattered my illusions himself.

On our tenth anniversary, I stood in the castle's great hall, wearing the black gown he'd given me, waiting for him to announce that our child would be his next heir.

But Alaric, who was supposed to lead me up to the dais, still hadn't appeared.

As murmurs spread through the hall, the side door to the forbidden second floor suddenly swung open.

Alaric came slowly down the stairs with his arm around a woman.

It was Orla Crane, the woman he'd once loved madly and had later taken in as his adopted sister.

She wore a sheer white lace gown. She hadn't even tied the sash properly; it hung loose at her waist, revealing glimpses of her pale skin.

Her hair was tousled, her eyes still rimmed with an unnatural flush, and she even reeked of the wild Progenitor scent that belonged to Alaric alone.

Alaric's hand rested on her slender waist, his thumb stroking the bare skin of her lower back as if no one else were there. His eyes still held the heat and tenderness of a man who'd just lost control.

The whole hall went silent.

Every vampire there could smell the sweet, forbidden scent of mingled blood in the air, the kind only lovemaking leaves behind.

They looked like the true lord and lady of the castle, fresh from a night of passion.

And in Orla's arms was Elias, her frail baby boy.

Alaric didn't spare me a single glance. Standing above me with his arm around the half-dressed Orla, he said calmly, in a tone that brooked no refusal, "Selena, give her the Progenitor's Ward ring."

I froze.

A few years ago, Alaric had nearly died fighting werewolves. I'd been immortal, but saving him cost me my power to regenerate. My mother had made the Progenitor's Ward ring to keep me alive.

"What did you say?"

In front of every guest, he bent his head and kissed Orla's flushed temple, then repeated himself as if it were nothing. "Orla's child is barely breathing. Only the Progenitor bloodline can save him. He needs it more than you do. Be a good girl. Be reasonable."

The silence in the hall was deafening.

Every vampire was looking at me. They all knew what that ring meant.

It held the concentrated power of the Progenitor bloodline. It marked me as duchess and kept both my child and me alive.

Orla nestled in Alaric's arms and looked at me, frail and innocent.

I touched my aching belly and asked him quietly, "And our child?"

Alaric frowned, as if my question were disturbing the woman in his arms.

"He already has my blood. He'll be fine."

I laughed.

So in his eyes, my child, my place as his wife, even my life could all be sacrificed.

All because another woman needed it.

I took off the ring, still warm from my skin, set it on the table, and looked up at him.

"Fine, Alaric. If you've chosen to save her child, I'll give you what you want.

"As of today, I'm ending our blood oath."

He thought I was throwing a fit. Impatience flashed in his eyes.

"Selena, in 30 days you'll regret this."

Because once a vampire's blood oath is severed, there's no going back.

Without the duchess's title and the protection of the Progenitor bloodline, I'd go from being envied to being the laughingstock of the Night Continent.

What he didn't know was that I had a noble family name of my own. For ten years, I'd simply ignored it for his sake.

In front of every guest, I began the ritual to sever the blood oath. Blood ran from my palm, and ancient runes lit up.

Everyone thought I'd beg him to let me stay at the last moment, but I didn't.

Thirty days later, my blood would slip free of his control, my child would no longer be in his line of succession, and my name would return to the records of an ancient clan.

The first one to panic would be Alaric, not me.

He burst into my room and, for the first time, lowered his proud head.

He went down on one knee and begged me, "Selena, come back. I can give you everything you want."

I looked at him and asked only one question. "And Orla?"

He fell silent.

Because he still loved her.

I smiled, turned, and left without another glance at his brooding figure.

That night, the doors of the Progenitor's Castle closed behind me.

The whole Night Continent thought I'd lost the Progenitor Duke's love and would spend my days wandering homeless.

They had no idea that the moment Alaric lost me, he also lost the heir of the oldest pureblood clan on the Night Continent.

And the only wife he had ever truly had.