Chapter 7: The Blood Moon

"The timing is significant," Elder Thaddeus said, his voice rasping like dry leaves. "The Blood Moon approaches—the first in five centuries. Our oldest texts mention bonds formed during such times, bonds that surpass our normal understanding."

Murmurs spread. The Blood Moon was a rare event occurring once every five hundred years, when the moon turned deep crimson for three nights. Vampire legends claimed it was when the barriers between realities thinned, letting powerful magic and prophecy emerge.

"Are you suggesting this is a predestined event?" Lord Silverash asked incredulously.

Elder Thaddeus tilted his head. "Timing is rarely coincidental in matters like these. The texts speak of a 'union between ancient enemies' during the Blood Moon, though the specifics have been lost."

A chill ran through me at his words. Connor's face flashed in my mind along with the strange sensation when our eyes met. I couldn't explain it, but his words struck an uneasy chord.

"Superstitious nonsense," Lord Silverash dismissed. "We need action, not ancient riddles."

"Enough discussion," my mother finally said, her voice slicing the debate like a silver blade. In a quiet corner, my father watched with subtle concern, his presence subdued compared to my mother's commanding air. "We need clarity before we proceed." Her gaze fell heavy on me. "Elizabeth, answer directly. Do you feel any bond with the werewolf alpha?"

The chamber fell silent. Every eye fixed on me, even my father's steady yet less stern look. It would have been simple to dismiss Connor's claim and end this humiliation. Yet something held me back.

"I—" I hesitated, unsure how to express what I didn't fully understand. "I cannot speak to what the alpha believes he feels."

"That is not the question," my mother's voice hardened. "Do you feel a bond with him?"

I met her gaze steadily. "I feel many things that are hard to describe, Mother. Perhaps if I understood better what such a bond entails—"

"A simple yes or no will suffice," Lord Silverash interrupted.

I felt irritation flare. "Nothing here is simple, Lord Silverash."

A ripple of surprise spread through the council. I rarely spoke back to authority, especially in formal settings.

"I will not be used as a political pawn," I continued, surprising even myself with my boldness. "Not by Connor, and not by this council. If you wish to declare war, do so on your own authority instead of manipulating my words."

Shocked silence followed. My mother's eyes widened in open-mouthed astonishment, and my father's subtle frown deepened—a silent confirmation of the gravity of my defiance.

Lord Sirius, silent until now, cleared his throat. "Perhaps there's a cleaner solution to this predicament." His perfectly manicured hands adjusted his cuffs. "A blood-binding between Lady Elizabeth and a suitable vampire noble would settle the matter. Any influence from the werewolf would be neutralized."

I felt my blood run cold. A blood-binding was one of our most sacred, irreversible rituals—a permanent magical tether. Once bound, freedom waned, and attachments were magically forbidden.

"Lord Cassian Thorne has long sought a political alliance with the Blackwood family," Lord Sirius continued smoothly. "He has both lineage and territory to be a fitting match."

Lord Cassian Thorne was over a thousand years old, his eyes icy and hands colder. We had danced only twice, and each time his possessive gaze made my skin crawl. The thought of being bound to him forever filled me with revulsion.

"An elegant solution," agreed Lord Silverash. "It sends a clear message to the werewolves that their alpha's claim is rejected while bolstering our alliances."

I looked to my mother for intervention. Though my father observed silently as a quiet shadow to her force, his opinions never carried the same weight. Her expression remained impassive, yet her hesitation sparked a sliver of hope.

"Blood-binding is not a political tool," Elder Thaddeus said quietly. "It is a sacred rite, not for coerced alliances."

"These are extraordinary times," Lord Sirius replied smoothly. "They call for decisive measures."

I stood suddenly, unable to quell my outrage. The council recoiled, unaccustomed to such abruptness.

"I will not be bound," I said, low and firm. "Not to Lord Thorne, not to anyone against my will. My loyalty is never in doubt, but I won't sacrifice my autonomy for your fears."

"You forget yourself, Lady Elizabeth," Lord Silverash said coldly. "Your duty is to your bloodline and our kind."

"And your duty is to protect our people, not to strip away their freedoms," I countered. "If I must choose between being Connor's claimed prize or Lord Thorne's bound property, I choose neither."

I turned and strode toward the chamber doors, my heart pounding. I had never defied the council before, never imagined it possible. Behind me, voices rose in protest and shock.

"Elizabeth!" My mother's voice commanded.

I paused at the threshold but didn't look back. "I won’t run away with the werewolf, Mother, if that's your worry. But I won't be sacrificed on the altar of your politics either."

Then I pushed through the doors into the corridor beyond. The guards appeared uncertain, having received no orders to stop me. I passed by with measured steps, preserving my dignity until I turned the corner.

Only in the empty passage did I allow myself to tremble. My hands shook as the reality of defying the High Council hit me. I had walked away from my mother, and my father's quiet dismay echoed in my mind. Consequences were inevitable—severe ones.

Yet beneath the fear surged something new—a current of resolve and power I'd never known. For the first time, I'd spoken my truth regardless of the cost. And despite the looming danger, that truth burned bright inside me.

I straightened my shoulders and kept walking. Whatever came next, I would face it on my own terms.