Bittersweet Vampire Short Stories & Novels

In the fifth year of loving Gabriel, he inherited his late brother’s title as Vampire Lord— along with his brother’s widow, Chloe, the former Blood Queen, and, by blood and law, my kin-by-covenant. Every time he returned from her chambers, Gabriel would hold me gently and whisper, “Isabella, Chloe is only my Chosen Consort. Once she carries and delivers the Scion of the Blazetooth Coven, I will bind myself to you through a Blood Bond.” He said it was the only condition his family demanded for him to ascend as Vampire Lord. During the six months after we returned to Blazetooth Coven, he answer her summons a hundred times. At first, once a month. Then once a week. And eventually, every single night. On the hundredth night I stayed awake waiting for him, Chloe finally conceived. The news arrived together with another announcement— Gabriel and Chloe would soon be bound by Blood. My son looked up at me, confused and innocent. “Mom… didn’t they say Dad would form a Blood Bond with the Blood Queen he loves? Why hasn’t he come to take us home yet?” “Because,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, “the Blood Queen he loves was never your mother.” “But that’s all right,” I added. “I’ll take you home. Our own home.” What Gabriel never realized was this— as the only daughter of a reigning Vampire King, I had never cared for the title of Blood Queen of Blazetooth Coven at all.

On the day I was awarded the highest honor in the vampire world—the Order of the Night—I died. Three hours after my death,my parents, my brother, and my Consort had just finished celebrating my sister’s Nightfall Commencement. While my sister Olivia was posting warm, smiling family photos on the vampire social network,I was locked in the basement,dragging my tongue across my phone screen,desperately trying to make a call for help. The only person who answered was my Consort—Julian. He said only one thing: “Bella, stop acting. Olivia’s Nightfall Commencement is important. Stop throwing a tantrum.” That was the ninety-ninth time they had disappointed me.And the last. I lay in a pool of blood so dark it was nearly black,my breathing fading into nothing. They thought I was just sulking somewhere,hiding as usual. They believed that if they taught me a lesson,I would crawl back obediently, like I always did. But they didn’t know. I had never left the house. I was already dead.

For five years, my relationship with Vampire Lord Dominic had endured every trial set by my grandfather—the reigning Vampire King. He had finally been prepared to pass the Vampire King’s throne to me— until the truth surfaced: my bond with Dominic was never real. The Sterling family’s wealth—worth hundreds of billions—and the Vampire King’s crown could be inherited by me alone. “Miss Sterling,” the Council archivist informed me coldly,“the Blood Registry confirms that your Blood Bond was formally dissolved one year ago.” “Dominic Costa’s registered Bloodbound Consort is… Ava Morgan.” “You are currently listed as unbound.” “Which means,” the message concluded,“Lord Dominic Costa is disqualified from inheriting the Sterling family’s assets, titles, or the Vampire King’s throne.” Ava Morgan.Dominic Costa’s human companion. I stared at the message sent by the Sterling Council Elders, unable to steady my breathing. So all these years—his devotion, his exclusivity, the affection he claimed was meant for me alone— had been nothing but a carefully constructed lie. I had planned to tell him about my pregnancy on the fifth anniversary of our Blood Bond. After all, for five years of marriage, this child had been the future we both claimed to long for. But now, it was clear—perhaps he had never been waiting for a child at all. I rested my hand against my abdomen and thought quietly: my twins do not need a father to exist. As for a man who built our love on deception— the only thing left for me to do is to leave.

My father had always been against my marriage to Ryan Kane, a vampire of noble birth. He believed that as a human, I had no place in the vampire world. He warned me that if Ryan ever changed his mind, without his protection, my half-blood child and I would be nothing more than walking blood bags in the eyes of vampires. But I believed in Ryan—and in our love. My husband had always been gentle and attentive. He had even defied everyone to make me, a human, his vampire bride. That was before Ryan's human ex-fiancée had her engagement called off and returned to the country seeking his help. I went to the hospital alone. While I was learning that my pregnancy was high-risk, Ryan was there attending her prenatal checkup, even introducing her to the doctor as his wife. All he had for me was one cold line: "Keep pushing me and I'll file for divorce." I pressed my hand against my stomach and dialed a number I hadn't called in years. "Dad, you were right... I want a divorce." Two weeks. That was all it would take for me to disappear from his life completely. But later—that same vampire who had discarded me like I was nothing showed up at my wedding to another man, trembling all over, calling my name in a broken voice.

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

Three days before my blood oath ceremony, someone planted a silver crucifix in the bridal shop and set it ablaze while I was inside trying on my ceremonial gown. My fiancé — Vampire Lord Damien — had the arsonist thrown into the silver prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the healing chamber, my body covered in severe burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Damien speaking with the coven's apothecary. "My Lord, we can still heal her completely with the ancient blood rites. If we wait any longer, Serena will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Vivienne to be your Consort at the blood oath ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the ceremony." "I promised Vivienne that her child would be welcomed into the coven with full honors. Only when Serena is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Vivienne's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the boy." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The blood oath ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The blood bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

Before my parents died, they entrusted me to the most powerful vampire clan — the Vanderlooms. I married Jason, the heir, and spent ten years by his side — only to discover he'd gotten his vampire subordinate pregnant. He said I was just a human. That conceiving a vampire's child was nearly impossible for someone like me. That even if my parents died saving his life, it didn't mean I could hold on to the title of lady of the house forever. Vicky said she needed human blood for her pregnancy and demanded I serve as her blood thrall. Jason just watched with casual indifference. He didn't stop her. So I packed my bags and calmly handed him the divorce papers. He sneered. "That trick doesn't work anymore. You want to leave? Go ahead." "Give it a week. You'll come crawling back." But what he didn't know was that I'd already accepted another man's proposal. This time, I was done loving him for good.

I married the most powerful vampire in existence — Lucien Blackthorne. And I was just a human. Four years ago, my parents gave their lives to save his during an assassination attempt. So he married me. As compensation. Lucien paid for my education, gave me access to resources most humans could only dream of, and treated me with impeccable courtesy. But he never once mentioned turning me. Then one day, his childhood sweetheart — a female vampire, freshly divorced — came looking for him. It was the first time I ever saw Lucien smile. That was the moment I understood. Lucien had never seen me as his wife. There had always been someone else. So I handed him the divorce papers. He barely hesitated before signing his name. "Elena, why would you do this? You know you can't survive without me. You'll regret it." He tossed me a check across the desk, looking down at me, and told me to go home and think it over. But this time, I wasn't going back. I left him carrying his child, determined to find myself again — done begging for his love. And yet, after I vanished, he came chasing after me, sobbing, pleading with me not to go.

I was born into the noble Valerie family, gifted by blood with the rare ability to bond with vampires and bear them powerful hybrid children. Since I was a child, I had been secretly in love with James, the vampire noble I was betrothed to. Everyone knew his heart belonged to one person only — his childhood companion, Vicky. But she was engaged to James's older brother. The night of their engagement banquet, James accepted my confession. He said we could try. I nodded and told him I didn't mind. I was willing to wait until he let her go. Then he gave the wedding I had designed with my own hands to Vicky. He stood in the groom's place, holding her hand through the rehearsal. And I stood below the stage, the laughingstock of the entire room. That night, he got drunk. He held me and said he loved me. I thought he had finally laid down his obsession, so once again I forgave him and let go of my pride. Until he called out Vicky’s name. In that moment, I finally understood. The one James loved would never be me. I had stored up enough disappointment. The next day, I disappeared from his world for good. Five years later, I ran into him by chance, a hybrid boy in my arms. He came rushing toward me like a man gone mad, eyes red, begging me to come back.

I'd been married to my vampire husband for three years, and he had always cherished me like a treasure. He held me close every night before I went to sleep. He never let go of my hand when we went out. He worried, always, that I might get hurt. A common cold was enough to make him cancel everything and stay up all night beside me. James told me no one in the world mattered more to him than I did. Everyone said he loved me to pieces. I believed it too. Until the day of the ceremony — the night he was supposed to turn me into a vampire. A woman who should have been dead walked back into his life. She had my face, tear-streaked, calling his name in a small voice. That was when I understood. I'd only ever been the stand-in for the woman he couldn't let go of. My stubbornness, my refusal to give up — all of it broke under the disappointment that kept piling up. So I gave up on him for good. I decided to keep our child to myself, and disappear from his world without a word. But later, he came back. Down on his knees, again and again, begging me to come home.

It was at our engagement banquet that I finally learned the truth. I wasn't the true heiress of a noble human family. I wasn't the "fated bride" destined to bear a half-blood child for the vampires. I was just the wrong baby someone had brought home from the hospital. A fake. I'd thought that Alexander, the boy who'd risked his life to drag me out of a burning house, the boy I'd grown up beside, would love me the same as always. Instead, in front of everyone, he let go of my hand and looked down at me with cold eyes. "Without that bloodline, do you really think you deserve to stand beside me?" Then he reached out and slid the engagement ring off my finger himself. He turned, and led the true heiress up to the high platform. Everyone laughed at me. The fake heiress, delusional enough to think she could marry the vampire heir. I was thrown out of the only home I'd ever known. The only kindness left to me was Alexander's, a scrap of charity that let me stay at his side as the lowest thing a vampire could keep. A blood slave. And then, later, I died in an explosion. Saving him. Alexander knelt in the blood and lost his mind, screaming at everyone around him to save me. But there was something he didn't know. I hadn't died. Later still, at a vampire banquet, he saw me again at last. I walked past him on another man's arm, smiling. And this time, it was his turn to lose his mind begging me to look back at him.