All Chapters of BLOOD FOR A BRIDE : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

-ASARAIAH KAINE- I spent the morning watching the rain dry on the glass. For the first time, I knew what he was, and the mansion didn’t feel any different. That was the worst part—realizing monsters could live among marble and espresso machines and still pay the electricity bill. When Gaya came in with my breakfast, she avoided eye contact. “You’ll have a visitor today,” she said. I already knew. Malrik had said her name hours ago like it was a warning. Lady Eryss. She arrived just after noon. No guards, no noise—just a black car that glided up the driveway and a woman who stepped out like gravity worked differently for her. Tall, silver hair twisted into a knot, white blouse, black trousers, sunglasses even though the sky was gray. She looked more like a CEO than a myth. But when she entered, the air shifted—thin, charged, ancient. Malrik met her at the door. I watched from the balcony. They didn’t hug. They just looked at each other the way soldiers do when they’ve alrea

ASARAIAH KAINEThe fortress wasn’t gothic; it was glass and silence.Eryss called it The Sanctum—a house built into the cliffside where sea met city. Every wall reflected something: steel, tide, moonlight, truth.For three days I didn’t sleep. She said it was part of the cleansing—no drugs, no wine, no distractions. Only mirrors. Dozens of them. Some old and cracked, others sleek like interrogation glass.“You see monsters because you expect them,” she said on the first morning, walking barefoot across marble. “Stop expecting them.”Easy for her to say. She’d outlived hers.Lesson one was sound.She sat me in front of a mirror the size of a door. The ocean hissed below. “Breathe until you can hear nothing but your pulse.”At first it was impossible. My mind was a riot: chains clinking, laughter from the men who hurt me, Malrik’s voice promising forever like a curse.“Again,” Eryss said.I tried.The noise faded, layer by layer, until only heartbeat and tide remained.“Good. Now,” she

ASARAIAH KAINEPower has a sound.It’s the silence that drops a room before someone dies.The council chamber already had that silence when I walked in.Twelve men. One long table. Cigars, files, and the smell of fear hidden under cologne. I’d worn black again—sharp, sleeveless, no apology. Malrik sat at the head, half turned in his chair, gold eyes fixed on nothing.They all looked at me like I’d wandered into a wolf den without teeth.I smiled. Let them think that.“Mrs. Kaine,” one of them started, slick voice, fake charm. “This is an internal matter.”“I’m internal now,” I said, taking the empty chair beside Malrik. “Or did your definition of ‘family’ change overnight?”A few snickers, a few scowls. Malrik said nothing, only watched me with that unreadable calm that meant keep going.The briefing began—shipments, alliances, numbers that meant lives. When they mentioned the Montova contracts, I interrupted.“Drop them,” I said.A pause. Then laughter. “Excuse me?”“They’re

-ASARAIAH KAINE- By sunrise the city was talking. Selene’s body hadn’t been found, but the rumor moved through the underworld like perfume and gasoline — the kind of story people whispered because they wanted it to be true. The vampire queen of the south had fallen from a rooftop. And the woman who replaced her wore Kaine’s ring. I drank my coffee and watched the news anchors guess which “businesswoman” owned the club. None dared say my name, but the way they avoided it told me they already knew. When Gaya entered, she didn’t bother with morning pleasantries. “Malrik called a council at noon,” she said. “They’re demanding an explanation.” “Let them demand.” She frowned. “You killed a legend last night.” I set the cup down. “Then they should build me a throne.” The council chamber smelled of money, cigars, and nerves. Twelve chairs around the long glass table. Men in tailored suits, guns holstered under their jackets. Every one of them looked up when I walked in — not surpris

-ASARAIAH KAINE-The night after the summit, the mansion didn’t sleep.Power has a sound — it hums, quiet but constant, like the house itself is awake and listening.The staff moved softer than usual, guards outside doubled, and even the air smelled different — money, smoke, blood, and victory.But I couldn’t sleep.I sat at the vanity, robe loose around my shoulders, hair still pinned from the meeting. The city lights poured through the glass like liquid fire, and for the first time, I didn’t look like a survivor.I looked like a threat.My reflection watched me back, head tilted slightly — too slightly. The movement didn’t match mine.I froze.“Not tonight,” I whispered.The reflection smiled.My chest tightened. “You’re not real.”“Neither are you,” she whispered.The voice wasn’t mine. It was softer. Older. Beautiful in a way that made the air colder.Zenaida.The name came before I could stop it.And then everything shifted.The room blurred — not melting, not fading, just… chang