Seraphina's POV
The rain hammered against the library windows like skeletal fingers demanding entry and I should have taken it as an omen. Instead, I pulled my cardigan tighter and lost myself deeper in the ancient tome I'd discovered in the restricted archives—a leather bound volume that seemed to whisper secrets with every turned page.
"Sera, you know Professor Hartwell will have your head if he finds you back here after hours." My best friend Maya's voice carried from the main library but I was too entranced by the illuminated manuscript before me to care about rules.
The book was written in Latin, which I barely understood, but the illustrations were hauntingly beautiful—pale figures with eyes like molten silver, scenes of midnight courts and crimson ceremonies. One image in particular held me captive: a woman who looked remarkably like me kneeling before a dark-haired man whose presence seemed to radiate power even from the yellowed page.
Sanguinem Regalis, read the caption beneath. Royal Blood.
"Sera!" Maya's whisper was more urgent now. "Someone's coming!"
My heart lurched as footsteps echoed through the library—not the familiar shuffle of Professor Hartwell, but something else. Something that moved with predatory grace across the wooden floors. I quickly closed the book and tucked it into my bag, my hands trembling for reasons I couldn't explain.
The lights flickered and died.
In the sudden darkness, I heard Maya's sharp intake of breath, followed by a sound that made my blood freeze—a low, almost musical laugh that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Leave." The voice that spoke was silk over steel, commanding and beautiful and utterly terrifying. "Now."
I heard Maya's hurried footsteps and the slam of the library door, but my legs refused to move. Something about that voice called to me, awakened something in my blood that I'd never felt before.
"Clever girl," the voice murmured, closer now. "Most mortals can't resist compulsion that strong."
My breath caught as a figure emerged from the shadows—tall, lean, dressed in a perfectly tailored black coat that seemed to absorb what little moonlight filtered through the windows. His hair was dark as midnight, his skin pale as marble, and when he looked at me with eyes like liquid silver, I felt the world tilt on its axis.
"You're not supposed to be here," I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
His lips curved in a smile that was equal parts beautiful and dangerous. "Neither are you, little mortal. Yet here we both stand, defying the natural order."
He moved closer with fluid grace, and I caught his scent—something like winter nights and old books and copper pennies. My pulse hammered against my throat, and his eyes tracked the movement like a predator watching prey.
"What are you?" I breathed.
"The better question," he said, reaching out to trace one cold finger along my jawline, "is what are you, Seraphina Vale?"
The fact that he knew my name should have terrified me. Instead, his touch sent electricity racing through my veins, awakening every nerve ending until I felt more alive than I ever had before.
"I don't understand."
"You will." His thumb brushed across my lower lip, and I shivered. "Tell me, little dove—have you always been drawn to the darkness? Have you always felt like you were waiting for something you couldn't name?"
Yes. The answer rose from somewhere deep in my soul, unbidden and undeniable. I had always felt different, always felt like I was sleepwalking through life, waiting for it to truly begin.
"How did you—"
"Because you're mine," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You've always been mine, Seraphina. Your blood sings to me across the darkness. I can hear it calling."
His words should have sounded insane. Instead, they felt like coming home.
"I don't even know your name," I whispered.
"Lucian." The name fell from his lips like a prayer. "Crown Prince Lucian Duskborne. And you, my beautiful mortal, are about to discover that everything you thought you knew about the world is a lie."
Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his breath cool against my neck. "Tell me you feel it too, Seraphina. Tell me your soul recognizes mine."
I did feel it—a connection so profound it terrified me, like invisible threads binding us together across space and time. When I looked into his silver eyes, I saw eternity.
"Yes," I whispered, the admission torn from my very soul.
His smile was triumphant and tender all at once. "Then let me show you who you really are."
He tilted my chin up, and I saw the sharp canine teeth, saw the predatory hunger in his gaze, and finally understood what he was. What he meant to do.
I should have run. Should have screamed. Instead, I arched my neck in invitation, offering myself to this beautiful monster who claimed I belonged to him.
"Brave little dove," he murmured against my skin. "This will change everything."
As his fangs pierced my throat, white-hot pleasure exploded through my veins, and the last thing I remembered before darkness claimed me was the taste of copper and starlight, and the certainty that my old life had just ended forever.