บททั้งหมดของ Blood and Moonlight : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

I remember dying. Not in the vague, dreamlike way people claim when they “almost” do—no hazy lights, no muffled voices calling me back. I remember it with a clarity so sharp it still slices through my thoughts like a blade. I remember the warmth leaving my fingertips first, like the tide receding from a shore. I remember the metallic scent of my own blood flooding the air, clinging to my tongue with every shallow breath. And I remember—most of all—the eyes of the person who killed me. They weren’t wild with rage or trembling with guilt. They were calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that comes when you finally finish a chore you’ve been putting off. A bored, almost dismissive gaze, as if my life was nothing more than an obstacle they’d been forced to deal with. That was the last thing I saw before the darkness took me. And then… nothing. No warm light at the end of a tunnel. No reunion with lost loved ones. Just a silence so complete it was almost deafening. I thought that was the en

The doors swung open with the kind of creak that said “Yes, I’ve been here for centuries and I will haunt you.” I stepped inside and immediately understood why the book had called the great hall “a cathedral to ambition.” The ceiling soared so high I thought clouds might drift past. A glittering chandelier dripped with crystals, casting fractured light over polished black marble. A long table stretched almost the length of the room, set with golden plates, tall goblets, and an alarming number of sharp knives. At the far end of that table sat him. Duke Corvinus Valemont. He looked exactly like the novel had described: tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair streaked with silver at the temples and eyes the color of steel in winter. His presence filled the room—calm, controlled, but with that edge of danger, like the moment before lightning strikes. And, oh, the fangs. Subtle, but there. Those eyes locked on me, and my brain immediately forgot how to operate basic functions like “w

The next morning started like any other. By “like any other,” I mean I woke up tangled in my ridiculously overstuffed vampire princess bed, stared at the canopy for a solid five minutes while remembering that I died in my last life, and then had an internal debate about whether I was truly ready to face whatever fresh supernatural nonsense awaited me. Spoiler: I wasn’t. But hunger—or in this case, a craving for the castle’s suspiciously delicious honey bread—won over dread. --- I wandered into the main hall, still slightly bleary-eyed but dressed in a pale lavender gown that had so many ruffles it could double as a pastry. The corridors were quieter than usual, though a strange tension seemed to hum in the air. Guards were stationed at every archway, their postures tighter, their eyes sharper. Which could only mean one thing: VIP visitors. And not just any visitors. The kind you either impress… or offend so badly that wars happen. Sure enough, as I reached the main hall, the b

The next morning, the castle felt different. Not in the subtle, you-might-be-imagining-it way. No, the air was heavy, like a storm was coiling over the walls, waiting for the right moment to break. I could feel it in the way the servants moved—quick, heads down, hands fidgeting. In the way the guards spoke in clipped sentences and kept glancing toward the northern courtyard. And most of all, in the way my father’s voice carried through the halls, low and sharp, like someone had dared to test him. I didn’t need to be a political genius to guess who might have been involved. Kael had arrived less than a day ago, and already the castle’s mood was bending around him like metal under heat. I had managed to avoid him all morning, which felt like a victory. But when you’re living in a castle with a man who can track prey by scent alone, I knew my streak wouldn’t last. And sure enough, the universe had a sense of humor. I was on my way to the library—an actual safe space in this unpred

I barely made it three steps out of the grand hall before Kael caught up to me. His hand closed gently—but firmly—around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “Astrid.” His voice wasn’t loud, but there was a sharp edge to it, like he was trying to keep a storm contained under the surface. The corridor was quieter than the hall, but the faint hum of castle life still filled the air—servants passing by with trays, guards in polished armor, the distant echo of footsteps. Even so, Kael didn’t let go of my wrist. “You’re coming with me.” It wasn’t a question. Before I could protest, he was already leading me toward one of the side chambers—a private strategy room, judging by the heavy oak door and the long table inside. He shut the door behind us with a solid thud, and the sound made my stomach twist. “What the hell was that back there?” he asked, finally letting me go but still standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. I tried to look anywhere but at him,