Vampire’s Blood Servant

Vincent's fangs retracted from my neck with a cold, slick sensation.

I kept my eyes closed, riding the wave of lightheadedness that followed each feeding.

The blood brand on my collarbone.

It was the magical contract he etched into my skin a decade ago, throbbed with a familiar, possessive heat.

"Your blood tastes slightly off today," his voice, low and satisfied, cut through the dimness of his bedroom.

I opened my eyes. He was dabbing the corner of his mouth with a silk handkerchief.

The smear of crimson against his pale skin looked stark in the candlelight.

His other hand still rested possessively on my bare hip, a lingering touch from the frantic coupling that had preceded the feeding.

For Vincent, appetite was never singular.

The craving for my rare blood and the desire for my warm, willing body were intertwined parts of the same ancient hunger, a ritual of consumption he had perfected over our decade together.

He was the Vampire Lord of this city, centuries old.

I was Elena Rossi, his primary blood attendant. My family's bloodline carried a rare trait that made it uniquely potent and stabilizing for vampires of his age and power.

"Probably lack of sleep," I said, pushing myself up on the massive bed. The sheets slid down, revealing more of the marks he’d left behind..

Vincent was already moving towards his wardrobe, selecting a tailored suit for the evening's event.

"Get dressed, Elena," he said without turning. "The Grand Hall. One hour. Wear the emerald gown. You know how my clan appreciate fine appearances."

"The Grand Hall?"

My heart gave a small, treacherous leap. In ten years, he'd never allowed me at a formal clan gathering.

A wild, forbidden hope ignited in my chest, burning away the fatigue.

The Grand Hall. Beside him. Was this it?

After a decade of shadows, was he finally going to present me? To acknowledge me before the elders, to offer the Turning, to make me officially his?

"Yes. Lilith arrives tonight. The banquet is in her honor."

The air in the room grew still.

"Lilith... of the Sanguine Crest?" My voice sounded trembled.

"Princess of the Sanguine Crest, my betrothed." Vincent turned, his dark red eyes showing no emotion towards me.

"The alliance was finalized in Paris three months ago. It brings the support of several key European families under her father’s banner."

Three months. I recalled his recent "diplomatic trips" to the continent. Each return had been followed by a particularly urgent feeding.

"What am I, then?" The words left my lips before I could stop them.

Vincent approached, his cold fingers tilting my chin up. "You are my most valued blood bag, Elena. That doesn't change."

He released me and picked up a platinum cufflink from the nightstand — a gift I bought him years ago with my first independent earnings.

“Get dressed, Elena,” he said without turning, his tone holding a post-coital laziness that was utterly devoid of warmth. “Or did my earlier… attentions leave you unable to stand? You must learn to adapt to more efficient service.”

Vincent’s voice, sharp and impatient, came from the wardrobe area.

“Hurry up,” he said, adjusting his tie in the mirror, glancing at my reflection with a smile that was nearly cruel.

“My dear ‘vitality source’. You need to look presentable tonight. After all, you are about to meet a true Lady.”

“ Let’s not have her think the blood attendants I keep are… lacking in polish.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, touching the burning brand.

"Be ready. You will stand beside my seat tonight." He paused at the door. "Remember your place. And your worth."

Then he left without looking back.

I sat up in silence, beginning to gather my scattered clothes.

A walking blood bag is what I was.

My family's rare blood, the only kind that could grant ancient vampires like him temporary tolerance to direct sunlight, was the currency that bought our safety in his territory.

I thought I was someone special to him, but I was just the vessel.

As I dressed, a discreet alert chimed on my encrypted phone. A message from my father in Italy, the current head of the Rossi family.

【Sanguine Crest consolidating power. Alliance secures their northern borders. Your continued blood supply is a stated condition of the pact. Be wary.】

I stared at the screen, the pieces clicking into place.

He wasn't marrying a woman.

He was signing a blood supply contract.

And I was the commodity.

My fingers were steady as I dialed the long-memorized number.

It connected after two rings.

“Papa.”

“Elena!” His voice was tight with surprise and worry.

“In seven days,” I said, my voice clear and final in the dark, “make the name Elena Rossi disappear from this city. From vampire’s world. Forever.”