I killed a man an hour before the Vampire King proposed to me.
Not on purpose. I'm a healer, not a murderer. But when the merchant grabbed my wrist in the marketplace and offered me three silver coins to "spend the evening" with him, something inside me broke. He wouldn't get away with this insult. What does he take me for a harlot? I'm Cassia Throne!!
My hands went hot. Not warm. Hot. Like someone had replaced my blood with fire
The merchant's eyes went wide. He tried to let go.
Too late.
He dropped, and there was so much blood. More than there should be. It pooled around him, soaking into the dirt, and people were screaming.
I looked down at my hands.
They were glowing. Faint gold light bleeding from my fingertips, fading as I watched.
What did I just do?
Someone yelled "witch" and suddenly there were hands on me, dragging me backward. I didn't fight. Couldn't. My brain had stopped working somewhere around the blood and the screaming and the impossible glow.
They threw me in a cell beneath the magistrate's office. Stone walls slick with moisture. Iron bars thick as my wrist. A bucket in the corner that reeked of decades of human misery.
I sat down and tried not to think about hanging.
Witches burn in our kingdom. Everyone knows that. Except the guard who brought moldy bread said I'd hang instead.
"King's orders," he said, like that explained anything. "Burning's too good for murderers."
Right. Because King Aldric definitely knew my name and cared how I died.
I ate the bread. Seemed stupid to die hungry.
Hours passed. Maybe a day. Time stopped meaning much in the dark.
Then I heard footsteps.
Not the guard's heavy boots. These were measured. Deliberate. The sound of someone who'd never hurried because they'd never needed to.
A man appeared outside my cell.
No. Not a man.
I knew what he was immediately. The unnatural stillness. The way shadows clung to him like they were afraid to let go. Eyes that caught torchlight and threw it back like an animal's.
Vampire.
"Cassia Thorne." His voice was smooth. Too smooth.
I stood up. "That's me. You here to watch me hang?"
His mouth curved. "I'm here to offer you an alternative."
"Let me guess. You drain me now, save the executioner some trouble?"
"I'm Lucian Ashford." He said it like I should recognize the name. "King of the Northern Territories. And I'm here to propose marriage."
I laughed. Couldn't help it. The sound bounced off stone walls, slightly unhinged. "You're insane."
"I'm serious."
"Why would a vampire king want to marry a witch scheduled to hang at dawn?"
"Because you're not just a witch." He stepped closer to the bars. Torchlight caught his face fully now sharp cheekbones, dark hair falling past his shoulders, eyes so pale they looked silver. He was beautiful the way a knife is beautiful. Made for cutting. "You're a Lightbringer. The first one in three hundred years. And I've been waiting for you."
Lightbringer.
The word hit hard, I'd heard it in my grandmother's stories. Ancient magic. The kind that could heal cities or burn them down. The kind the Church had spent centuries exterminating.
"I'm a healer," I said. "I grow herbs. Set bones. That's it."
"You collapsed a man's chest from six feet away." He tilted his head. "That's not herbs."
"That was an accident
"Accidents don't glow gold." He pulled a key from his coat. "I can get you out. Give you sanctuary. Teach you to control what you are. You just have to marry me."
I stared. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is you become my wife. My queen. You live in my castle, attend my court, play the role I need you to play."
"Which is what? Dinner?"
"I haven't eaten a human in two centuries." His smile widened. "You're safe from my teeth. I need you for something far more valuable than blood."
"And that is?"
"To help me win a war." He unlocked the cell. The door swung open with a rusty scream. "There are forces that want me dead. The same forces that killed the last Lightbringers. If they find you, they'll torture every drop of power from your body and then burn what's left."
"Sounds lovely."
"So I've heard." He held out his hand. "You can stay here and hang at dawn. Or you can come with me and live. Maybe even learn why your magic woke up after three hundred years of silence."
I looked at his hand. Pale. Long fingers. No warmth. No pulse. Just dead flesh animated by something I didn't understand.
But he was right. I was going to die at dawn. And I'd just discovered I had magic that killed people without me even trying.
Maybe I deserved to hang.
Or maybe I deserved answers.
I took his hand.
The moment our skin touched, lightning cracked through my chest.
I gasped. His eyes went wide.
Suddenly I could feel him. Not just his hand,*him*. . I felt the hollow where his heart should be, he literally had no heart, of course he's a Vampire. A thousand years of loneliness so vast it made my ribs ache. Grief. Rage. Exhaustion bone-deep and older than kingdoms.
He yanked his hand back like I'd burned him.
"What was that?" My palm tingled, hot.
"Nothing." Too fast. Too defensive. "We need to leave. Now."
He turned and walked out. I followed because what choice did I have?
We moved through the dungeon. Past guards slumped against walls, snoring. Magic, I realized. He'd put them all to sleep.
We climbed stairs. Emerged into the magistrate's office,empty, dark except for moonlight cutting through windows.
"Where is everyone?" I whispered.
"Asleep. It's temporary. We have an hour before they wake up and realize you're gone."
Outside, a black carriage waited. Black horses. Black wood. Black curtains.
"Subtle," I said.
"I'm a vampire king. Subtlety is for people who lack confidence." He opened the door. "After you, bride."
I climbed in. Velvet seats. Silk curtains. Too nice for someone who'd been sleeping on stone an hour ago.
Lucian settled across from me. The carriage started moving without anyone driving it.
"So," I said. "Marriage. Are we going to talk about that?"
"What's to discuss?"
"I don't know, maybe the fact that I don't know you? Or that you're dead? Or that this is completely insane?"
"You chose to come."
"I chose not to hang. There's a difference." I crossed my arms. "What does being your wife actually mean?" Why did he even choose me but at least I know I'm going to live quite longer than I thought.
"You'll live in my castle. Attend court. Learn your power. And when the time comes, you'll fight beside me."
"Fight who?"
"The Order of the Silver Dawn." His voice went cold. Dangerous. "Religious zealots who think magic is evil and vampires are abominations. They've been hunting my kind for centuries. Attacking my territories. Killing my people. Getting bolder."
"And you think I can stop them?"
"I think a Lightbringer can break their holy wards. With you, I can actually fight back instead of just defending." He leaned forward. "Your power could change everything."
"So I'm a weapon."
"You're a queen." Soft. Almost gentle. "Weapons don't get palaces and crowns and everything they desire."
"What I desire is to not die." It's simple I don't want to help anyone I'll escape when I get a chance.
"Then we're aligned." He smiled. "I'll keep you alive. Teach you control. Give you power. All you have to do is trust me."
"Trust a vampire. Right. Great plan."
"You already did." He gestured at the moving carriage. "You took my hand. You're here. Whether you trust me or not doesn't matter anymore."
Damn it. He had a point.
I looked out the window. My village disappeared behind us small houses, smoking chimneys, the market where I'd killed a man with magic I didn't know I had.
Somewhere back there, my sister Mara was asleep. She'd wake up tomorrow and find out I'd escaped and run off with a vampire.
She'd think I'd lost my mind.
Maybe I had.
"When we get to your castle," I said slowly. "What happens then?"
Lucian's smile turned sharp. Predatory. "Then, my dear wife, the real fun begins."
The carriage plunged into darkness. Trees closed over us like a tunnel. And I realized with absolute certainty that I'd just made either the best or worst decision of my life.
Probably worst.
But at least I'd be alive to regret it