The silence of the palace weighed heavily that night, like a suffocating shroud of velvet pressed against Elena's chest. She had long since dismissed her ladies-in-waiting, but rest would not come. Not after what she had witnessed earlier that day.
She could still vividly remember the way Damien had reacted at the lunch. The memory kept replaying in her head, each one more disgustingly unsettling than the last. The crack of bone when he crushed the servant's skull against the gargoyle statue had echoed in her mind all afternoon, repeating endlessly like a curse. The blood.. it had flowed so fast that she was already doubting if it was real. The way the maid's scream had been cut short when Damien smashed the bottle against her forehead replayed with a heaviness that made Elena want to vomit.
And yet—what horrified her most wasn't the deaths. It was Damien's eyes. He had this mesmerizing yet devilish look that brought out his true colors. He had shown her in full view his red, blood eyes.
Wow! My husband really is a vampire?!
Elena let out a mocking laughter. Who would have thought the daughter of a servant would marry the prince? And a vampire for that matter?
She had tried to steady her hands while the maids cleaned the blood-stained tiles and tried to remind herself that he had only reacted because someone had tried to poison her. But the rationalizations never quieted her pounding heart.
That night, her chamber was stifling. She lay rigid in her bed, her fingers clutching the sheets until her knuckles whitened. The canopy curtains swayed gently in the night breeze from the half-open window, but instead of comforting her, it made her heart drum faster.
She shut her eyes tight.
"Sleep. You must sleep, Elena." she repeated over and over to herself.
But sleep brought no peace. In its place followed one nightmare after the other.
....
It was a dream of a banquet. The long hall was beautified with golden chandeliers flickering like jewels in the waning moon. She sat at the center of an impossibly long table laden with food. Her wedding dress shimmered with golden and white house and her hair was pinned with diamonds.
Around her were her new family and other nobles of the court even the princes were present.
She smiled faintly as she waded through the sea of people, each returning her smile with a brighter one until she saw the contents of their cups.
As she look into their cups, realization dawned on her. It was blood. Thick, red, pulsing blood... and it was still warm!
Her stomach dropped as every guest raised their goblet in unison and drank greedily. The blood dripped down their lips and they seemed drunk with it. The sight sent an unsettling churn in her stomach. It was all so disgusting.
As she proceeded to dash out, she turned her head and froze. The princes were there—Cassian, Lucian and Severin. Their faces held mocking gazes as they all approached her slowly, their smirks turning to snarls. And then the most bizzare thing happened.
Long, sharper than knives, elongated canines emerged from their mouth as they approached her. The fangs continued to grow and grow until it reached the tip of their lower lips. Elena froze in her spot, unable to move from the fear.
And then something glinted from the side, catching her eyes. As she turned her head slowly, a figure sat at the head of the table.
Damien.
He sat with one hand lazily resting on his goblet and the other propping his chin. His lips curved in a half-smile, something she had never seen him do. At that moment, she prayed his cold, unfeeling gaze would suddenly return.
"Elena," he whispered her name for the first time since they met.
She looked down.
She was suddenly in front of him with her wrist slit and blood dripping steadily from it into his goblet. Her breath hitched as realization dawned on her: she was the feast.
Elena struggled desperately to wring her wrist from his grip but he had her in an iron strong grip. The more she struggled, the weaker she grew and the more her blood flowed into the cup. Her vision slowly blurred. She felt her body slumping forward as the white of her dress knocked over the goblet, spilling its content all over it. Cheers and laughters erupted in the hall as Damien lifted her lifeless wrist to his lips, drinking deeply from the source. When he raised his head, his eyes glowed red like burning coals, and blood dripped from his mouth.
"You were always meant for this, my bride," he whispered with an ominous look on his features and eyes that glowed even redder than before.
And then, the world collapsed around her.
........
Elena jolted awake with a strangled gasp, her body drenched in cold sweat. The room was plunged in shadows, save for the silver light of the moon spilling through the window. Her breaths came shallow and rapid, her trembling fingers clutching the sheets to her chest.
What kind of dream was that?! she whispered to herself as she looked around her before grabbing her wrist hysterically like it was cut off.
It looked perfectly fine without so much as a single scratch on it. She heaved a heavy sigh before sinking back into the bed. Sweat streamed down her forehead to her throat in pools.
Sweet relief!
Without a second thought, she made to get up from the bed and head outside for fresh air. As her feet landed on the floor, she froze in her spot. Something wasn't right.
She slowly turned her head and right there in the corner of the chamber, sat a figure still and silently cloaked in the shadows.
Her heart stopped as memories from the dream pooled back in her mind. She remained frozen in her spot, unable to move, breathe or even speak. She blinked, straining her eyes against the darkness. Suddenly, the curtains flew up in the wind, allowing the shine into the room. That was when she finally saw it.
Damien.
Elena finally released the breath she had been holding. As eerily as he looked, deep down she felt relieved that it was him and not some crazy creature from her dream. He sat back in the chair as though he had been there all along, his hands resting loosely on the armrests and his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. There was something unnervingly calm about him, as though he belonged to the shadows themselves.
"How long…" she whispered, breaking the silence "…have you been there?"
"Long enough," he immediately answered smoothly. His tone was quiet, almost gentle, but it only made her wary of him. She still didn't know if she could fully trust him...yet.
Elena dropped back on the bed and pushed herself up, clutching the blanket tightly around her body. "Why... why are you here?"
Damien swept his gaze over her entire form. His red eyes were in full view now as they scanned her entire body.
"To remind you," he said fixing his gaze squarely on her, "never to touch a goblet of wine unless I have tasted it first."
Elena's heart skipped. Did he really come here in the middle of the night to say that?!. Elena scoffed hard at him, turning her gaze back to the window. "And that couldn't have waited?" she said sarcastically avoiding his gaze. Damien tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving her.
"Oh?" he said softly, crossing his long legs over each other.
She swallowed hard. That one word had made her jump. Clearing her throat, she spoke up again, trying to clear the awkwardness
"So it...it was poisoned, wasn't it?"
He leaned forward slightly, the moonlight catching the sharpness of his jaw. "Yes. And had you drunk it, you would not be speaking to me now."
Her lips parted, questions tumbling inside her furiously. Her entire frame shook from his words "I...I could have died...?" she asked quietly, fear etched all over her face.
"Who— who would want me dead?"
Damien stood up from the couch, his tall form casting a long shadow across the floor. Slowly, he walked toward her bed. Each step was followed by a soft crunch of his book that echoed in the silence, carrying a weight that made Elena's pulse thunder in her ears.
When he finally reached, he stopped at the edge of the bed and looked down at her with eyes like dark flames. "Your blood holds what can cure years of suffering" he said at last after studying her for a while "That is reason enough...for now."
Elena felt like someone had hit her with a heavy stick. The words slashed through her like a blade, numbing her instantly.
"My...my blood? What is so important about my blood?" she managed to ask after recovering herself.
Her blood. That was what they wanted. Was that what the silver haired woman had meant? About why she was in danger?.
Suddenly, a thought dropped in her heart. It was a dangerous one but she knew she had to ask it. Her lips trembled as the question left her before she could stop herself. "Your highness...are you… are you truly… a vampire?"
Another round of silence filled the room again. Even the night air outside the window stilled.
Damien did not flinch nor did he move from the side of the bed. He did not even look away. His gaze held hers with the weight of centuries, and when he spoke, his words knocked out every rational thought left in her.
"Yes, I am."
His words came out calmly yet it struck like thunder in her chest.
Her lungs quickened its pace. She had already known but somewhere deep inside, she wanted to hear it was all a lie. But hearing it from his lips made the ground shift beneath her feet.
He was a vampire.
A real Vampire!
And she...she was bound to him.
Elena's throat went dry. The questions that slapped at her to voice her had long dissolved into nothing. She sat frozen, staring at him as though he had just cracked a joke.
Damien tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Don't worry though. I don't plan on harming you" he uttered before slowly climbing the bed.
"I…" She swallowed hard, forcing her voice past the lump in her throat. "… but you killed them. The servants. So easily. Without hesitation."
His jaw tightened, his gaze darkening. "They tried to kill you."
"But the maid—"
"She was most likely an accomplice." His voice came out, hard and unfeeling with his hardened eyes looking colder and more dead than before.
God! This man was devoid of emotions!
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she slowly coiled back to the bed, wrapping the sheets around herself as if it would get him away. "You... you scare me."
Damien paused in his movements. His one knee remained on the bed and his hands in his pockets. It was like her words had frozen him but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by that same eerie calmness.
"Good" he said simply. "Fear will keep you alive."
He leaned closer, his shadow falling over her. His voice dropped to a whisper, laced with a power that coiled around her like invisible chains.
"Remember this, princess: do not touch wine unless I drink from it first. Do not trust the hands that serve you. Do not mistake smiles for kindness. This palace thrives on blood and betrayal, and you… are an easy prey..." His gaze flicked to her throat, lingering there before meeting her eyes again. "…you are its most precious offering."
The words left his lips with such seriousness that made it impossible to forget. Her breath hitched at his words and her heart slammed painfully in her chest.
His eyes remained rigid, entirely fixed on her. "Remember this when next you try to foolishly trust what's in front of you."
And then, without another word, he straightened himself and turned away, his dark hair shifting like liquid shadow as he walked toward the door.
Elena sat trembling, clutching the blanket around herself as her pulse began a frantic drumbeat in her ears.
Just as he reached the door, he paused, his back still to her.
"You asked me if I am a vampire," he said, his voice low, echoing in the silence. "Yes, I am. And now you must decide whether that truth will be your salvation… or your ruin."
The door shut softly behind him.
Elena sat alone in the moonlit chamber, shaking like a leaf
at his words. Her lips parted in silent horror as new waves of thoughts echoed endlessly in her mind.
The one that made her almost jump out the window and run till she felt her legs dead came up. " If he is a vampire, then is everyone else in the palace a vampire too...?"
Sleep became her worst enemy that night...