LOGINThe Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,
View MoreOn the night she returned from the cemetery, Lily sat in her studio, staring at the moon.She had just spoken to her mother's grave—about how she would remember the sins of them all.But fate, it seemed, would not allow her to remain a mere observer."Don't kill me! Please!"The cry of a small child cut through the estate's nightly silence.Lily put down her brush and looked from her studio window down into the courtyard.Two black-robed elders were dragging a little girl, who looked no older than six, toward the execution block.The child's clothes were torn and she was covered in blood, clearly having just escaped from hunters."Another product of an illegal turning," one of the elders sneered, raising a silver dagger. "By clan law, the sentence is immediate execution."In an instant, Lily was rushing down the stairs.The little girl was cowering in a corner, her eyes filled with despair and terror.Just like her, all those years ago."Stop."Lily's voice, though still that of a chil
Fifty years later.Lily still had the face of an eight-year-old, but her eyes held the weariness of a century."A new piece by 'L' just sold for a fortune," the gallery manager reported excitedly over the phone. "The buyer would still like to meet you in person.""No," Lily refused in her childish voice. "Tell them the artist is very old and doesn't see guests."No one would have guessed that the "Ghost Painter L," who had taken the art world by storm, was actually a monster trapped in the body of a child.For fifty years, she had lived under a dozen false identities, each painting a scream into the endless night.Silas approached. "Miss Lily, the car is ready.""Let's go." Lily hopped off the chair, not sparing a glance for the priceless painting. "Today is the anniversary of Mother's death."The headstone was already covered in flowers. They were all from her, placed over the years. There were no others.She expertly cleaned the dust from the headstone, her movements as steady as an
"Kill me... Miles, I'm begging you, give me a knife..."At the top of the clock tower, the midday screams were more punctual than the church bells.Vivienne was curled in a corner of the "Sun Cage." The specially enchanted glass filtered out the sun's lethal ultraviolet rays, leaving only a searing heat that felt like a branding iron.Her skin ulcerated and healed, over and over again.Miles stood in the shadows below the tower, clutching a withered lily. He listened to her wails from above, his face a mask of stone."My Lord, are you not going to see her?" Silas asked coldly from behind him. "Today marks one month of her punishment.""No." Miles turned and walked toward the edge of the muddy cemetery he had defiled. "Death would be too easy for her. Her hell is living."He walked to the edge of the cemetery and stopped abruptly.The invisible barrier was still there. If he took one more step, the blood curse Isolde had left behind would scorch his soul.For an entire month, he had be
"Miles! Are you insane? I am the mistress of this house! I am the sole heir to the Vance clan!"Vivienne clutched her throat and scrambled toward the door, her voice hoarse but still dripping with disgusting arrogance. "You dare to harm me? When the lawyers get here, I'll have you thrown out of this estate! I'll make you wander the streets like a dog!""No need to wait, Miss Vivienne. I've been here for the past hour."Sterling, the Vance clan's chief counsel, pushed open the door, a black briefcase in his hand.He stepped over the splintered wood, bowing slightly to Marcus before turning to the others."Silas, secure the video evidence from just now." Sterling adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "Based on that recording, Miss Vivienne's actions constitute not 'good-faith inheritance,' but 'murder with malicious intent.'"Vivienne's face went white, and she shrieked, "So what? Isolde signed the papers! She signed them herself! All the assets are mine!""Indeed, she signed. But you clear






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