~Serah POV~
Dozens of weapons tilted toward him in answer and my heart jumped into my throat, I saw the rage in his eyes, the thirst that made his fangs gleam sharper he would kill them all if they dare him.
"No!" I screamed, stepping forward, chains of fear and guilt binding me. "Please, don't hurt him I'll go with you."
"Serah!" Tristan's roar shook me to my core, but the moment my wrists were bound, the choice was made.
They dragged me through the manor gates like a criminal, the chains heavy on my ankles, my gown torn and plastered to my skin every step hammered shame deeper into my chest.
The hall doors yawned open and Jethro stood at the far end, tall and regal in his black cloak, gold crown glinting on his head and at his side... Lydia, draped in silk, her smirk painted across her perfect face.
And my father stood before them both, his expression carved from stone.
"Father," I gasped as the guards forced me to my knees. "Please...why? You brought me back to him? You all rejected me but now wanted me back! Why?"
His gaze didn't waver, but it chilled me all the same. "You are his wife, Serah, bound before the Council, bound by blood and the child you carry...." His voice lowered. "It does not belong to you."
I scoff as the hall fell silent and Jethro stepped forward, slow, deliberate his eyes... red as flame—dropped to my swollen stomach.
"I knew it," he murmured, voice rich with satisfaction. "Power hums inside her womb, she's still caring my blood." He crouched before me, his hand pressing against my belly as though it already belonged to him. "This is the future of our house."
I flinched, shoving his hand away. "You cast me away even when you knew I was pregnant! You named my step sister Lydia, your queen, and now... now you dare—"
Lydia's laugh sliced through the air. "Don't embarrass yourself, sister! You were just a piece of shit, a vessel. Nothing more! Or you think Jethro's crown was ever yours?" She leaned closer, her perfume choking me. "He has me, and you? You'll be nothing but a reminder of your own shame!"
I lunged at her, but the guards yanked my chain taut, slamming me back to the floor.
Jethro's smirk didn't falter. "Lydia is my queen I announced that when you left, but you—" His eyes burned into mine. "You carry the true heir, and for that, you'll remain under my roof. Bound, chained if necessary, until the child is born."
I scoff, "No," I hissed, tears hot on my face. "You can't...!"
"Chain her!" Lydia ordered, her voice sweet as poison. "If she must stay, let her crawl like a maid and let her remember every day what she lost."
Iron shackles clamped around my ankles as the sound of the bolt driving into the stone floor echoed through the chamber, final and cruel. My father looked away, he didn't move to stop them and I should have known because they've publicly rejected me many times.
I wasn't a daughter anymore, I was cargo, suddenly a shadow swept across the hall, I look and saw Tristan.
He stormed through the doors, black cloak billowing, eyes glowing with the kind of rage that silenced every guard in his path, his fangs bared, and voice a growl that shook the pillars.
"Release her!"
The hall held its breath Jethro only tilted his head, smirking. "How dare you interrupt my court?"
Tristan's shadows writhed, hungry. "She is not yours again the moment you rejected her."
"She is still my wife," Jethro snarled, stepping closer. "And she carries my child! Do you think you can steal what belongs to me?"
"She's not a thing to claim," Jethro spat. "And if you touch her again, I'll rip the crown from your skull and drink your last breath with it."
Gasps rippled through the guards, even Lydia faltered, just for a heartbeat.
But Jethro only chuckled. "So bold and reckless, do you want to risk war with me, Tristan? With the Council? You think you can win?"
Tristan's eyes flicked to me then... chained that was bound me with, my stomach heavy with the life Jethro claimed as his and Tristan's jaw tightened. I saw it—the war he wanted to start, the slaughter he was seconds from unleashing.
But Jethro raised his hand. "Take one more step, and Serah bleeds before your eyes."
A guard pressed a silver dagger against my throat, the cut was shallow, but blood welled, running warm down my skin.
Tristan froze, his eyes darkened, fangs flashing as the scent of my blood filled the hall. He trembled because hunger gnawing at him, for a moment, I feared he'd lose himself and attack anyway.
Then his voice broke the silence. "I'll come back for you." His gaze locked on mine, fierce and unyielding. "On my blood, Serah, I swear it."
"Trisatn—" My voice cracked, but the doors slammed shut as the guards forced him back.
Jethro crouched again, his hand pressing to my belly like he owned it, his voice low enough for the hall to hear. "She is mine, and so is the child."
Tristan's roar echoed long after he was gone, shaking the walls, rattling the chains that bound me. But I was left kneeling, Lydia's laughter ringing in my ears, Jethro's hand heavy against my stomach.
And for the first time, I feared I would never be free.
The chains on my ankle rattled with every step cold iron biting into my skin heavy enough to remind me I was no longer Jethro's wife, but his discarded possession. Lydia's voice rang sharp across the marble floor, and all the maids stood idle with smirks plastered on their lips.
"Scrub harder, Serah! I can see my reflection in the tiles, but it isn't clear enough or do you think being pregnant makes you exempt?" Lydia's laugh was sweet poison.
I clenched the rag until my knuckles burned and my swollen belly pressed against the floor as I bent forward, my vampire strength barely making up for the awkwardness of my movements. The child inside shifted, reminding me it was alive, Jethro's blood running in its veins, though I wasn't sure if that was comfort or curse.