Both Are Mine for the Taking
My sister and I slept for a thousand years. Tonight, we would Awaken. We would become true High-Bloods.
Our Sire, Countess Lylandra, brought us two men. We had to choose a Blood Thrall.
A cold, celibate priest.
A young, harmless noble prince.
In my past life, Lilith grabbed the prince by the neck and vanished into the shadows. She left me with the cold-hearted priest.
The prince's blood was sweet, his soul pure.
He was supposed to be the perfect sacrifice for the Awakening ritual.
Lilith should have become a High-Blood without any trouble.
But she fell for the prince's sweet words and gentle lies.
She poured her ancient power into him.
She forged a false blood bond to help him seize the throne.
On his coronation day, he plunged a dagger dipped in blessed silver into her heart.
With his own hands, he carved out her new Blood Core.
He offered it to his werewolf allies.
Lilith nearly turned to dust.
And me? The priest helped me purify my blood. I broke the vampire curse.
I no longer feared the sun or blessed silver. I became the legendary Daywalker Queen.
Jealousy drove her mad. She used her last drop of power to unleash a kin-curse. It killed us both.
Then I opened my eyes.
I was back. Back to the night we chose our Blood Thralls.
This time, Lilith chose differently. She wrapped herself around the priest, a vision of seduction. Her blood-red wings spread, ready to carry him away.
My fangs slid from my gums.
A choice? Why should I have to choose?
The priest and the prince... Both are mine for the taking.